


Cry Wolf

by VanessaSQuest



Series: Frequency-verse [11]
Category: Jonny Quest, Original Work, The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
Genre: Crossover, Frequency Series, Gen, Intelligence One, Jonny Quest - Freeform, Original Fiction, office politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 10:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaSQuest/pseuds/VanessaSQuest
Summary: Storyline in the Frequency Verse, AOO exclusive, this story is heavily OC centric and as such only loosely ties into the JQ verse-- it also draws from the Comico Comic Series heavily for background characters. After the events in Killer Midterms and D2D4, Phil Korvin is taking a hiatus from I-1, but one can only do that for so long without consequences and blow-back... but who better to handle blow-back but the Wolf? Unless, of course, there's accusations of nepotism in the posting.





	Cry Wolf

Cry Wolf by Vanessa S. Quest

Alarm blaring, Darren pulled out his Blackberry and leafed through it to look at his freshly repopulated daily calendar and the week-view.

Since picking up Phil’s role in the interim, he’d been swamped with meetings, agendas, budget planning, and frankly this pocket-device was the one thing simultaneously keeping him sane and driving him mad. He’d love a damn day off but running two of the most important intelligence agencies in the US, that seemed far-fetched.

Rolling out of bed, he made his way to the coffee machine and found supplies laid out for him, he was silently grateful that’s all his daughter did. He was exhausted. It had been _months_ of this bullshit, worse by the fact he brought it on himself. When Phil had taken his bereavement, Darren had looked over his own personnel files and saw nearly six months of accrued PTO and he signed himself straight into making his brother take it and thus forcing himself into this role for another two months. He looked at the small confectionary chocolate bonbon next to the coffee materials.

“Oh shit, it’s the 14th…” He mumbled to himself, realizing he forgot to order flowers for the house. Christ, he’d _forgotten_ to do a lot of things around the new place to make it feel like an actual home. He looked at the neat kitchen that was fully stocked with groceries. Simultaneously grateful for his daughter’s ability to plan ahead and annoyed as shit that she had to. They hadn’t even had a daddy-daughter date for the month, let alone time to just sit and talk, he was constantly on the way out to this or that. “Princess, are you up?” He looked around, already setting up the coffee for it to percolate.

“Morning dad,” Venus gave a small wave and tugged on her apron. “I’ll make breakfast while you get dressed.” Her mopey smile made him feel even worse.

“…I’m sorry I’ve been _so_ busy, princess. I… I didn’t realize today was, well…” He looked at the chocolates in explanation.

“I know; that’s okay. Besides, I like Saint White’s Day more anyway.” She shrugged, “Besides, bicycling to school is pretty good exercise and lets me figure out the lay of the land.”

He frowned, that was _another_ thing, worse yet, with the Quests… “Have you been getting time to visit your brother?”

She nodded, “Yeah, and Jessie and Hadji… although I think Hadji also counts as my brother, or is it once-removed…?” She shirked her shoulders, “Eggs Benedict, or do you want French Toast?”

Darren let out a laugh, “Let’s go for French Toast. That seems more appropriate for the holiday; Venus, sweetie, thank you for taking such good care of your old man.”

That brought out a genuine smile, “We’re partners, don’t worry about it. You haven’t been getting a lot of rest; don’t run yourself into the ground, okay?”

“Oh, not to worry—I’m not the one who’ll do it to me.” He held up the device suggestively, “This will do it _for_ me. Let’s see, the agenda for this weekend is—a Budget Meeting, an Oversight Committee Meeting, a Presidential Conference, oh, and an Honorary Brunch for Intelligence One. Wait a second—how the hell did she over-book me?!”

Venus’s head tilted, “Your secretary did? When? For what?”

He held up a finger to shush her while he read through the information. “Shit. The OCM overlaps the Brunch…”

“…By how much?” Venus looked at him in concern.

“Half the damn thing, and it’s across the town, oh, and apparently I need to be in Boston…” he looked at his Friday, “She booked tickets at least.”

Venus’s head tilted again, “Plural?”

Darren laughed, “I guess she realized I’d ask you to go. Sweetie, I’ve got to get ready for work. How’s your homework?”

“…I’ve done all my readings for the semester, and everything I know about is complete, why?”

He smiled at her and ruffled her hair, “Good, then come with me to Boston this weekend, or do you have plans? Crap, I’ve been such an ass I don’t even know what _your_ schedule’s been like…”

“Dad, it’s fine! When I need a ride, pops and Race have been helping out a little. It hasn’t been much at all! And besides, I can push off anything if it’s for a daddy-daughter date. Even if it’s just the flight, that’s enough.”

He hugged her tightly, “You’re the sweetest girl in the world.” He kissed her forehead. “According to this I have to go from Boston to DC, weird there’s only one ticket there, but it looks like there’s one from Boston back to here for Sunday for you.” He pet her cheek, “Is that okay? Are you comfortable being in Boston by yourself?”

Venus shrugged indifferently, detaching from the hug, she went to prepping the bowls for the French Toast dredge. “It is what it is. Since I’ll be in Boston anyways, do you want _me_ to head the Brunch?”

In consideration, he glanced at her, “You’ve been to fundraisers before—you know the key-notes to hit on, right?”

Venus nodded, “I can come up with a speech, it’s a thank-you celebration for Intelligence One anyway, right?”

“Right.”

“…Then that’s not too hard.” Venus started dunking the bread in the batter.

“Okay, sweetie, thank you. You know if anything ever happened, you’d be my go-to, the next in line...”

She shot him a scowl, “Nothing is going to happen to you, you just need to set some boundaries with your scheduling and get a day off for _real_ dad.”

“I know, I know, but listen… I’m serious. If anything _did_ happen, you’d be my next in line. You’re smart enough to figure out what happened and set up an appropriate replacement while everyone else would scramble or power-grab.” He touched her forehead, “I count on you a lot, you make me _so proud_.”

She rolled her eyes and flipped the toast, “You’re supposed to be getting dressed, not spinning yarn, besides— everything is fine, isn’t it?”

The lilt in her voice of anxiety made Darren back-pedal. “Of course it is. I’m just tired, you know I get more antsy when I’m tired is all.”

Venus took that initiative to give him a tight hug, “That’s because you know they sense weakness. Daddy, be careful… I don’t know what I’d do if you were _gone_.”

“Hey! Hey none of that!” He returned the hug just as tightly before letting up. He didn’t like seeing misty eyes, “It’ll be fine! It’s just another couple of months and then Phil will be back steering his own ship and I’ll have more time than I’ll know to do with. Of course, this is a fancy brunch, do you even have a cocktail dress that still fits?”

“Are you insinuating I got fat?” Venus frowned.

He laughed, “Of course not, you’re _too_ skinny. But you’ve shot up three inches since you last got a dress, and I don’t think the cutesy Easter lace dresses will cut this. You need to look more polished… _refined_ for these kinds of things…”

“You mean I need to look more grown-up?” She asked, measuring, she had her suspicions.

“…Among other things, yes. I don’t know how the big-wigs will like my 15 year old hosting the dinner even if you _are_ an experienced agent…”

Venus smirked, “Most of them don’t know how old I am though.”

Darren laughed, “You’re spending a lot of time with that trouble-maker brother of yours, I see. You think you could make yourself look a little more adult? Just enough to hedge off the questions…”

“I can introduce myself as your liaison, too, and just skirt the issue entirely; you think you can make it for the second half? If not I can make the speech on your behalf easily enough dad, I’ll be really diplomatic about it.”

“I know you will, I trust you. Yeah, let’s plan it like that, you go, enjoy yourself and I’ll pick you up. I’ll also arrange a ride there for you, and they’ll double as your escort until I can get there.”

Her eyebrow shot up, “My escort? You mean a bodyguard?”

He gave a soft chuckle, “Welcome to the world of espionage, sweetie. Yes, he’ll double as your bodyguard. I always have a couple at events like that because they’re mostly open to the _public_ of the agency, and there’s a lot of big-wigs. A lot. You’ll be schmoozing most the time you’re there.” He bopped her nose. “And you’ll do great.”

She frowned at the thought, “If you’re worried enough about bodyguards something really is going on, dad. What is it that you aren’t telling me?”

His phone beeped again as he sucked down coffee, “Damn it, I really have to get dressed. I’ve already said it, but… listen, people in old-boy clubs like this… they have… opinions. Usually stupid ones and it’s our job to dispel those, but it’s a pain in the ass.”

“…I think I understand.” She said with a muted frown, “I’ll make it clear at their reception though, I’m a _real wolf_. They won’t doubt my leadership.”

Darren nodded while pulling out a clove cigarette, “That you are, but assholes like the kind I’m worrying about won’t believe it until your teeth are on their throats, but this is just a brunch, you just need to be _confident_ and _charming_ and that’ll handle the ones you’ll have to deal with. Plus, I’ll get there for that speech… at least I hope, these oversight meetings are absolutely soul-sucking.” His tie adorned, he fixed the knot while sucking in trails of tobacco and clove.

“What time do we get in to Boston?”

“Friday around 6,” He patted her hair, “Once we land let’s go shopping and get dinner.”

“Deal!” She handed over the plated French Toast and another poured cup of coffee for him to fix to his own liking.

-Cry Wolf-

 Boston, MA – 1830 EST, Friday…

Outside the baggage-claim area, Venus held a slung-over leather messenger bag that doubled as luggage and a large purse if she let it. Inside the checked bag were her trusted glock, holster and all, two boxes of ammo, pajamas, two days’ worth of clothes, and her makeup kit. On her she carried her personal ID, phone, and small clutch. While not dressed to the nines, she was in a comfortable but presentable outfit for dinner out. A nice pale-pink sweater and neat brown suede pants that were two tones darker than her corresponding suede jacket, though they matched her shoes near perfectly giving her even more height with the lift in the boots and continual line; Venus walked with her father to the rental car awaiting them.

Darren’s load was a little more of a handful, a leather briefcase, a duffel bag, and a suit-carrier which was also holding his suit jacket while he wore a hardier one over his crisp white dress-shirt and charcoal grey slacks, his black watch, belt, and shoes at a decent polish though they weren’t reflective in shine. He pocketed the key for the Mercedes he just rented.

It was a _nice_ car, but it wasn’t his favorite to drive. He was particular with his driving and preferred BMWs for a reason, but it looked sharp, it had the features that he requested, and it was fast. The silver car was also a four-seater, which was larger than he really needed, but it did allow him to put his suit in the back instead of the trunk so he’d accept that.

Once the car was loaded, he turned on the GPS and set it for their first destination—a specialty shop L’elite occasions, he was glad to see it wasn’t too far from their location and it had come recommended. If that didn’t pan out, they’d have to trek into a mall, and he wasn’t thrilled at that prospect. Nothing against the department stores, but he knew from experience that if a dress looked like money it bought a certain power with it, and if his daughter showed up wearing the same thing as, say, a secretary following _her_ boss around, it would not bode well so specialty shops were the safer bet.

When they stopped in and quickly found four contenders within an hour, he considered himself lucky. First there was the LBD- a Chanel Standard, but unfortunately that in and of itself made it not the right one, a black dress was too stiff for a brunch, even though it was polished the charm was approachability and his daughter wasn’t a natural on that front. No, that one hadn’t been the right one. The pink dress, a very pale blush, almost champagne in color, was too feminine and _soft_ , it lacked the _confidence_ to say to trust her and her movements, not that his daughter _liked_ pink at all for that matter. He looked at the little red dress, he had opinions about that—none of them particularly positive. She looked adult in that, alright, she looked svelte and it hugged in places his 15 year old shouldn’t _have_ to _hug_. If he sent her in like that she’d get their attention alright, but not the kind his kid needed. He put that one back with a dirty look.

“But I liked that one…” Venus muttered, “It felt _powerful_.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the type of power you need to tap into at a _brunch_ , sweetie.” He smiled calmly, bopping her nose as if to remind himself that she was, in fact, not some 20-something sex-kitten that dress suggested, but in fact his baby girl. “Besides, blue is a good _brunch_ color…”

Venus rolled her eyes, looking at the boat-collar, thick-strapped cocktail dress. It looked polished, business professional, and the crisp ironed-in lines made it look like money, but it also looked like the yacht club’s president just dropped it off. “I look like the queen of the yuppies.”

“Perfect, because it’s a brunch, and they’re mostly yuppies there.”

“Then I guess I’ll be wearing _pearls_ to go with it.” She rolled her eyes, “Do they have shoes here too, or do we have to go somewhere else for that?”

“There’s another place nearby for that. Besides, those have to look fierce, not comfy dancing shoes, otherwise you’ll be downgraded to princess yuppie, and as you know—all yuppie girls are _princesses_.”

Venus shot him a smirking scowl, “ _You_ call _me_ a princess all the time.”

“But your title is different. You’re her royal highness, Princess Pain In The Ass, Pita for short.” He winked tiredly. “Now let’s get those shoes and then dinner. Will your clutch go with that? Do you have hosiery that’ll work?”

“Yeah, I also brought a few options jewelry wise, including the yuppie accessory pack and the diva diamond pack.” She sassed with a smarmy smirk. “But I do need a light jacket or a sweater. Even if it is inside, I have to get there first and it’s going to be a warm 20 degrees Fahrenheit tomorrow.”

“Oh? What’s this, _you_ , cold?” He reached over to a nearby rack to pull potentials.

“No, but if I go in just in this, they’ll know I’m some kind of monster, and really—shouldn’t I keep them guessing about that?”

That earned her a boisterous laugh. “Oh, I’m always a fan of mysterious women. But we men should be quite predictable indeed. Here try this.” He handed her a neat grey half-jacket with rollable sleeves. Marveling at his pick, he nodded his own consensus. “Like it?”

“Yeah, it works, but this whole outfit is really stiff.” Venus’s nose scrunched, she had _had_ more mobility in the red dress, even if it was ‘slinky’.

“Welcome to the working world of suits.” He goaded, “Do you need hair accessories, princess?”

“I have that with me already.” She reminded, looking over the outfit, she could see it coming together, it was passable and she was hungry. This would have to do. They made fast work there and at the shoe shop where she picked up a matching set of stiletto 3 inch pumps with a pointed tip, equally unhappy at how uncomfortable they were for the price tag. “Dad, I don’t like how these clothes move, the shoes aren’t broken in, they aren’t long-wearing, and the heel looks weak. My black pumps at the house are a way better brand… these cheap POSes are barely going to cover it.”

“They’re two hundred dollars and they look like money, remember, your battlefield is your linguistics. It’s all friendlies. Besides, you have an escort to look after you, I suppose I should tell you who I arranged for. Yeah? I got one of our old _friends_ —James ‘Loose’ Cannon.” He smiled as he talked over her concerns.

“…Really?” Her eyebrow shot up, “So he really _did_ jump into the Intel-One work like I asked?” She smiled, “I bet De’ll either be really happy or shoot someone.”

Darren laughed back, “De doesn’t know, so let’s go with ‘or’.”

Smirking, her teeth showed on the left side, “And you trust him?”

“Him? Yeah, he’s still got that mercenary mentality and my pockets are deeper than anyone who might cause trouble. Besides, he’s got a soft-spot and you’d work your way right into it if _I_ suddenly couldn’t afford his price-tag.”

Venus looked at him to weigh his words, she quickly decided that her dad was holding out on her but that he was going to keep doing so she opted for the less intrusive, “Okay, let’s get dinner, dad. What did you want?”

“We’re in Boston, there’s some passable pizza, or we could do burgers, or high dining if you prefer, m’lady.” He winked.

“Burgers it is.” She gave a pleasant smile back, though she felt uneasy, still searching in his eyes, chancing it she asked, “Dad, is everything _really_ okay?”

“Yeah, it’s gee-dee great that they work me 100 hours a week without a day off.” He ruffled her hair, “I’m sorry I’ve been tired, tomorrow is going to run very long on me, but right now, we have this time together, so let’s enjoy it okay?”

With a sad frown, Venus nodded. “Can we stop into the hotel and then hit the hotel’s restaurant? Is that okay? That way you can get a little more sleep.”

He kissed her forehead, “You really are as sweet as they come. Okay, let’s get going.”

-Cry Wolf-

In the Hilton’s large suite, Venus flopped onto the second queen-sized bed in the large expanse of a room. It was the size of their living room back in Millbrook, and that alone was the size of the first floor in the house they were renting off Moody Street. She looked at the office-area that was off to her right, near the windows of the high-rise. The building was at least fifty stories, and they were on the 40th one.

Darren stretched his neck to his left and right rendering a handful of pops and clicks as he loosened his tie. “That dress still going to fit? You ate three of their desserts…” He chuckled, “That poor waitress thought you were choking the way you eat like a chipmunk…”

Venus rolled her eyes exacerbated, “What! It was _real_ crème brulée and the sorbet with goat-cheese medallions looked _so_ good… then you went and ordered that tira misu and couldn’t even _start_ it… it would’ve been an insult to the chef to send it back untouched.”

He smiled back at her, he’d actually ordered it knowing she’d feel bad getting all three and knew she was agonizing over which one, like she couldn’t stand to bank those calories on occasion. “Well, they messed up the coffee in it; that was a _real_ insult.” He volleyed, though he could tell it had actually been impeccably executed.

“Uh-huh, you look sallow. Are you _sure_ you really can’t tell me what’s bugging you?” She sat up in one fluid motion. She walked to his side and leaned into his shoulder to eye him suspiciously.

He gave her a smile and bopped her nose, “I already have told you. I’m tired, I’m over-worked, and I’m low on daughter-time, assholes over-book my schedule, and I’m _dangerously_ close to getting a pic-line added for coffee distribution.”

“If coffee isn’t hitting the spot, may I suggest a casual dab of cocaine?” She joked back, her hand went to his hair and pushed his bangs back. “Why did you really get Jim, dad? Do I need to be worried?”

“Hell no! Phil’s a worry-wart, and I’m starting to think this job should come with a lifetime supply of antacids… they make you paranoid, adults and the in-fighting, it’s total corporate bullshit that I’m ecstatic that I’ve avoided for the last 12 years of my career as an acting director… but I-1… fughetaboutit.”

He tapped the crease-lines forming on her forehead.

“Really, sweetie, it’s _nothing_. I’m paranoid because I’m working with petty people, but as petty as they are, they aren’t stupid and that means that everything they do is underhanded political shit, which is annoying as shit but not _dangerous_.”

“If you’re _sure_ …” She gave him a side-armed hug before heading to her bag to retrieve her toiletries and her glock. “But you’re still _armed_ , right dad?”

He scoffed, “I have my kit, well, the truncated one. These heightened security measures are the real nightmare.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t bring your grenade launchers.” She smiled unevenly.

“ _Or_ my bazooka… what kind of bullshit is _that_?” He smiled back; he doffed his dress-shirt leaving his undershirt on to act as his pajama top.

Venus picked up her change of clothes and went to the bathroom to clean up and change out. Though she didn’t take long with a 15 minute shower, brushing her teeth and changing, by time she was out, Darren was out cold on the first bed- the one closest to the door, his gun in its usual spot in the event of an ambush.

She frowned at that and pulled the blanket over him. She moved his cigarettes and lighter to his night-stand and pinched a few for her troubles before walking to the balcony with her cellphone in hand and called her brother.

After three rings, a breathy blond answered her. “Hey sis! How’s Boston?”

“Evening, it’s not too bad.” Her voice floated over her and the city, feeling disconnected even in her own ears. “It’s warmer here than Portland, that cold-snap missed the city.”

“Lucky you. I’m _freezing_ , it’s a crisp 10 degrees right now and because it’s so cold it’s going to ice instead of snow.” Jonny kept the forward momentum going, “Is your dad at another meeting _this_ late?”

“Nah, he’s finally getting in some sleep.” Venus let out a billowy sigh, “ _Something_ is worrying him, he hasn’t said what, but I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Sis, are you okay? If you need back-up I can talk to dad and we can…” He paused, he wasn’t sure what they really _could_ do.

“I think it’s much more people-soft stuff, and while pops is _liked_ and _respected_ at Intelligence One, he’s not the management. His opinion would be as aptly written off as any other intellectual throwing in; no, it’s not just that. I’m really getting worried at how _tired_ dad is. He’s pulling double duty, and the problem with that is that he already _did_ pull long hours, usually he could keep it to 60 or 70 sure, but now he’s… no, forget I said anything. I’ll be back on Sunday. Do you think Race could pick me up from the airport? Plus I’ve still got to pick up dad’s suits from the dry-cleaner and go to the grocery store.”

Jonny let out his own sigh, “Sounds like your dad’s not the only one keeping busy, sis. I’ll ask Race, I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

“If not, that’s what cabs are for.” Venus smiled into the phone, “Maybe if I get enough done we can still make that movie on Sunday… or did you ask Cheri already?”

The laugh from the other end of the receiver boomed in her ear, “Cheri doesn’t want to see that, I think she’s finally figuring out we Quests are all really, _really_ big nerds, just in our own spheres.”

Venus’s eyebrows shirked at that, “Oh come on, that’s not a nerdy movie, Daredevil’s going to be a blockbuster hit.”

“It’s based off comic books, she’s sure it’s just going to be a bunch of references she doesn’t get.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll wait until you’re back to see it together, deal?”

Venus nodded, “Thanks. I’ve got to turn in, tomorrow’s going to start super early. Good night!”

“Alright, have a nice night, give me a call and let me know how everything goes.”

“Did you want to live vicariously through another boring speech delivered at a symposium? I’d think you get your fill through pop’s.”

“Har-dee-har-har, no, those are different. Aren’t you presenting to their VIPs or something?”

“Not if I can help it, dad’s supposed to make it back in time for the big speech, _but_ it’s really just a thanks for your service thing, not to address the state of the union… that’s why I _can_ help him with it.”

“Oh come off it, you’re still doing some legitimate diplomatic endeavors, and yeah, I am impressed that you get to do that.” Jonny smiled back.

“Fine, deal, I’ll get back to you either tomorrow, or Sunday when we meet up for the movies… Later player-one.”

“Signing off.” Jonny joked back, they both hung up, Jonny returning into his toasty room to finish up an essay, Venus returned to dial another phone number entirely.

After two rings, a familiar voice struck her ear, “Korvin here.”

Venus frowned at the unusual greeting, “Hi Uncle Phil!” She offered in a cheery voice she didn’t feel.

“Is everything alright?”

That made her frown harder; he was supposed to be on leave- on _vacation_ , relaxing. “Can’t a girl call to check in on her _favorite_ uncle?”

Phil offered a laugh, where he’d normally call her out on favoritism of an only-uncle, he stopped at the memory of recent events, his mood souring with his meandering thoughts.

“How are you doing? What are you up to?” Venus offered to change the topic when the silence hit a pregnant pause.

“Don’t tell me Darren’s having _you_ call to badger me now, too?”

“…Dad’s been badgering you?” Venus asked back in surprise.

“No, he’s not, but the damn gophers have been… he runs it like… never mind, this isn’t a secure line and I don’t need to be such a negative nelly. We just got back from a cruise to Hawaii, I miss the warm water already I tell you what.”

Venus tensed at the passing reference to her cousin but tried to bury it, “Oh? That must have been fun… so, what are you going to do _next_? You still have a couple of months of stored PTO left.”

“About that… well, I’m not particularly ready for retirement. Between you and I, I’m going _nuts_ without enough to do. Nothing is falling apart at the seams, is it? Darren’s been _impossible_ to catch on the horn, it’s almost like he’s avoiding me.”

Venus laughed, “He’s not avoiding you, Uncle Phil, dad’s just been getting run down. He’s pulling double-duty, and frankly putting most of his time into this interim role… we’re keeping everything afloat though! Dad’s working really, really hard to make sure not to disappoint. All your water-coolers have been replaced with coffee-machines, new hires are all required to get punk-colored mohawks, and wear really, really skimpy mini-skirts. So far, they’re pulling it off.”

That earned her a loud laugh, “Well, I believe that bit about the coffee-pots. How are you doing, your majesty?”

She rolled her eyes at the rarely-invoked nickname, she looked back at her dad as he drifted into a deeper sleep in the hotel room. “Fine, I guess. I got a new outfit today. I’m not thrilled with it per se, but I was in a pinch so it’s what I wound up with. I’m presenting tomorrow.”

The sound of a breath hitch caught her attention. “ _Presenting_?” He seemed to catch himself realizing the line wasn’t secure, “For… uh, _school_?”

Venus eyed the phone, “Oh no, I’m just hosting a small brunch.” Venus offered, “While dad’s off doing other stuff, I’m just keeping myself entertained by being borgie.”

“I’d say to be careful around the borgeois, but really, I should probably warn _them_ about the wolf they’re letting loose.”

Venus laughed softly into the receiver, “At least I have proper table-manners. I’m sorry people are still bugging you about work, maybe you should just turn off your phone for the weekend and try to _really_ get bored.”

Phil chuckled, “There’s an idea… Is everything alright?”

She smiled to herself and willed herself to believe what she was saying, “Mm-hmm! Just checking in with you; it’s getting pretty late here though, have a nice night Uncle Phil!”

“…Yeah, you too, tell your dad I said hi.”

“If I can catch him before he slips out for his morning meetings, sure.” Venus offered a soft reminder of her dad’s hard work and long hours. The lines disconnected and she returned to the hotel room closing the balcony door. She watched as Darren shifted semi-awake rapidly at the noise, hand going straight for his service piece before realizing the source and then returning the gun to its place and he to a state of sleep.

With another sigh, she pulled out some flash-cards to study the names of the important-most guests and tidbits about each of them, their families, where they lived, what they liked to discuss—and drink, small-talking points and how she’d have a point of connection to most of the ones she’d have to shake hands with. There were at least 70 people she’d have to actually make sure to _find_ and talk with at a brunch with over 500 people in attendance.

-Cry Wolf-

At 0430 EST, Venus shifted bleary-eyed from the bed, she didn’t even remember getting to it, she remembered she’d been studying at the desk around one; she probably fell asleep at that point. Tilting her head to the side, she saw a freshly-shaven Darren fixing his tie while gnawing on the toast free-hanging from his mouth.

She curled into the pillow more, “’s it mornin’ already?”

“Not just yet, I’m beating the sun to it. You should get some more sleep, sweetie. I ordered you breakfast from room-service, and you have this place until tomorrow.” He patted her shoulder and pulled the blanket up over it. “My guy will pick you up from here at 10.”

“Okay, have a great day, see you soon…” Venus curled back into the warm blankets and let her eyes close.

“You too.” With another firm pat on her shoulder, he pulled back into the room and picked up his briefcase, loading it with his favorite service pistol. He clipped another to his ankle in its holster then adjusted his pant leg and sock to make sure it looked smooth.

He dimmed the lights back and closed the curtains most of the way before taking his key-card and headed out.

By 0715 EST, there was a courtesy call that brought Venus out of a deep haze of sleep. She rubbed at her eyes; it felt like she’d been having nightmares, but now she couldn’t remember what they’d even been about.

Groggily, she answered, “Hullo…?”

“Good morning, this is Mr. Korvin’s courtesy wake-up call. It is 7 AM. Your room service should be up within the half-hour.”

There was a knock at the door which made Venus’s head pivot. “Uh, thanks… That must be them now.” She hung up and drew her own piece before stealthily making her way to the door and checking under the crack then the peephole from the side by the handle, she saw the retreating back of a bellhop and a covered plate of food and looked at herself, gun in the one hand, and ready to throw the door open with the other. “Oh great, now _I’m_ paranoid too…”

She holstered her weapon and unlocked the door. Opening it, she picked up the tray and pulled it in while scanning the hallway for movement regardless. Inside, she closed the door and locked it with both the bolt and the ‘chain’ before moving the tray to the sitting area. She took up the tray cover and looked at the hot chocolate, fluffy scrambled eggs, ketchup, toast with butter, and slices of pineapple and strawberries. In the corner of her eye she saw the sparkling water that her dad had stashed on his nightstand replacing his cigarettes.

“…Mister _Korvin_ , huh?” She picked up the water and brought it to her breakfast tray as she made inroads pecking at the meal. She considered the day ahead of her and loaded the eggs onto the toast and began to chow down in earnest. Completing the task, she set the tray outside and then set to getting ready for the day.

With her face washed and cleaned with astringents and foam cleaners, moisturized, and fresh, she patted it dry. Venus set to work quickly straightening her natural waves into a pristine shine with her ceramic flat-iron then pulled it all back into a high ponytail, clips and combs kept her bangs tucked flat into the sleek up-do showing off her forehead. Adding hair extensions to the ponytail, the hair hit the top of her shoulders to give the illusion of shoulder-length hair. A dab of putty, shine oil, and gel mixed in her palm helped prevent fly-aways while guaranteeing the ‘do would last throughout the day.

She washed her hands from the goopy remnants and then set to work with her makeup. She pulled out her kit of high-end ultra-last makeup and began with a tinted moisturizer paying attention to her under-eyes to remove the puffiness and some of the purpling from the long night.

That affixed, she began to blend in slightly darker shades to contour her natural lines, her cheekbones, her temples, the ridge of her nose and even the space between her eyes and the bridge of her nose; she even thinned the tip of her nose with the darker powder. The highlighter went on next; underneath her brows, the apples of her cheek, the very tip of her button-nose, her chin and center of her forehead. A darker still shade went under her jaw to accentuate her lines, and more depth to her cheekbones was added. Satisfied, she moved to her eyeliner and mascara. For her waterline she used a darkest brown to make her eyes appear smaller, her lids received a finely drawn line of a slightly lighter dark brown liquid liner and a corresponding dark brown mascara was added to her lower and upper lashes. She added the faintest touch of copper-brown eye-shadow in a subdued smoky eye look. Afterwards, she dabbed a thin veil of blush and a soft pink lip-stain that would wear through the full day. Certain the look was perfected, she used a fixing spray and let it air dry.

Next, she brushed her teeth and changed into her tights and dress, the sweater-weight jacket hung off the back of the chair as she loaded her clutch, her new shoes just to the side of it. Bracelet and necklace adorned, she pulled out her metal earrings, the rigid metal design was artistic and not strictly matching to the pearls, but they had their own charm. Content with the ensemble and the packed-out clutch, she added one last thing—a folding knife, the device went into her pocket and she quickly set to work putting on her shoes and jacket. It was already 0945 EST, and her escort was due at 1000, which any good agent knew that meant he’d be there at 0945 EST and wait a good five minutes before giving a courtesy knock.

Venus looked at the peephole, he was right on time, there. She undid the bolt but left the chain connected. Once he got to the door, she cracked it open, “May I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up Director Korvin’s representative.” He said smoothly, “I was told you would be expecting me.”

Venus smiled despite herself, “And whom would I be expecting?”

“Wild Jim at your service, ma’am,” He smirked between the door, flipping open his badge. He heard the all-too familiar click of a gun being taken from the ready-fire position and then the more promising sound of the door closing and the chain-bar being removed. The door opened briefly as Venus exited the room, ready to go without so much as giving him a glance inside. Not that he’d be so inclined to spy on them, his eyes were soaking in the view ahead of him, the striking blond woman looked to be about 25, and a perfect 10 if he had anything to say about it. “And what may I call you?”

Venus let out a soft laugh, she could tell he had no idea how old she really was as he was falling over himself. “Are names _really_ necessary between old friends? We’ve met before you know.” She winked.

His jaw dropped, “No way! There’s no way…”

Her eyebrow arched, “What do you mean?”

“You _can’t_ be the Wolf, can you? But—but I’d’ve _remembered_ meeting someone like _you_.” He fumbled.

“All the same, you got it on one.”

“Then what’s your real name?” He asked, still in disbelief. It earned him a sincere, but soft laugh.

“That’s really above your pay-grade. Dir. Korvin asked me to stand in for him at the brunch. I’d like to get there early and do a sweep of the venue, so on that note, I think we need to head out instead of play this adorable 20-questions game.”

“Uh, yes ma’am.” Jim fumbled as he blushed at her teasing giggle.

“James, it’s a pleasure to work with you and see you in person again. I’m _very_ glad you took my request to heart and jumped back into I-1. It’s missed your Midas Touch.”

He smiled, smitten, “You really _are_ the Wolf then…” he laughed. “Well, the car is out back, let’s get going.”

The brand-new looking 2004 Jaguar XK8 unlocked at the click of a button, the dark grey leather interior offset the black exterior, the car was stacked, Venus was surprised by the excess of the vehicle. Certainly it screamed money, but it also screamed young money. Most of the rentals they’d use for events like this were Audis or Mercedes, and on the lucky occasions BMWs. “What, was the Porsche in the shop?”

Jim laughed, “Actually, this beauty was a special request from Director Korvin himself. He asked for the fastest car on their lot.”

Her eyebrow shot up at that, there was that bad feeling again.

“What _did_ he tell you, James?”

Wild Jim scratched the back of his head, in the monkey-suit of a tuxedo, bow-tie, and high-polished oxfords he sure didn’t _look_ like a Wild Jim, even if his hair was still wayward along with the two-day stubble! “You’re really going to call me _James_ the entire time, Ms. Wolf?”

“Oh, I could call you Loose Cannon if you prefer. Answer my question, if you please.” She said in a blustery tone, she took the crook of his elbow as she walked to the car.

Jim’s blush only deepened, he escorted the lady to the passenger side and opened the door for her. “Sorry to say, but that’s classified, need-to-know basis.” He winked at her for the earlier jab.

“He _does_ like surprises, doesn’t he?” Venus shrugged, once seated she stretched back to enjoy the leather seats, already finding the switch for the seat-warmers as Jim powered up the car.

“You’re _really_ the Wolf though? You don’t look a day over 25, but we’ve been pen-pals for almost 10 years!”

“Nine, and you aren’t really asking me my age, are you?” She smiled passively, “But I’ll take it, 25 is a nice number.”

His eyes kept scanning her face and body returning to the home-position of eyes before repeating. He couldn’t for the life of him recognize her and it was an understatement to say he was _pretty good_ at recognizing faces.

“James, we really can’t be late.” She reminded him. “I’ve been working for more than 10 years on some pretty complex stuff. Most of it’s classified to the point of not existing. Some of it’s turned into legend, and some of those are actually pretty close to the original. Some actually down-played stunts I’ve pulled, gotta love classified ops.”

“Oh yeah? What’s one that was down-played?” Jim smiled as he started the car up and pulled onto the road-way.

“There’s a few of my exploits in Asia, two years back I went in looking for some intel in a dusty little town called Kabul, you might’ve heard of it.” She joked, referencing his own 30-day stint in said dusty little town she’d helped him out of. “And from there I got to go on a beautiful hike to a lovely poppy field, which one I’m not at liberty to discuss. Our contact was _supposed_ to have something worthwhile, but that was a myth. We’d been set up by Zin who had wanted to wipe out the local competition in the drug-trade… but it worked, because I got holed up and didn’t feel like dying on that hill for one drug dealer over the other, sooo… there I was, trapped on a hill-face with 30 very friendly types, and enough explosives to plow the countryside into a Blockbuster parking lot. What I didn’t have was ammo or a way out, for four days I figured out my plan, and on day four, I dropped a rope into a well that had split open from some precision blasts, as the buddies came up, I made that parking lot and got all of them in one blow, literally. Climbed up, put on a ‘happy’ face of one of the guys who had enough of a face to borrow, and drove their car back through a checkpoint. At which point I faked having my hearing blown out since they’d seen the explosion. I told them about the casualties, how Zin had sent a female spy, how said spy killed all those men, and probably me- their good buddy- and to make my way like a good little jihadist to the land of milk and honey I needed to find some American boys to help me out. They set me up with a lovely vest which I apparently knew well as to how to use because I lucked into the bomb-maker’s face-swap. I know a thing or two about bombs though, so I took out their radio detonator _and_ the charges, slipped it into their vehicle by the gas-tank since I wasn’t a fan of them hooking me up so nice, and then went on my way. Then I got to a US check-point in my vest, and boom. Up went Mo’s jeep, meanwhile, I took off my ‘makeup’ and introduced myself as a fellow patriot looking for a lift home. Before I left though, I made sure to pay my respects to Zin’s local buddy for wasting two weeks of my life. They don’t credit the Wolf for that hillside accident, but they got the bluffed their way into one of their vests and blasted them to the here-after, and they got the part about the drug-bust.” She buffed her nails as Jim grinned at the wild tale.

“Holy heck, I heard that one… yeah! So _that’s_ why you blew their jeep…” He stroked his chin, he’d always thought it was because they were working with Zin, but that made far more sense.

Venus looked out across the city street, she didn’t mention that at the time of it all she’d been in drag and pissed on high for having to keep on a compression shirt for two weeks in the dead of summer or how she’d gotten second-degree sunburn and sun poisoning that waste of a trip, or how _De_ had been the instigator telling her to go for it. Why she ever listened to that woman’s bad advice baffled her. She groaned to herself, so many of her troublesome missions always stemmed from De and her _brilliant_ ideas for deep ops.

She saw the convention center and was excited to see nearby parking reserved for them. While she could power through four hours in 3” stiletto heels, even she had limits and these shoes were neither broken in nor the comfy kind that made her feel like taking a hike in them for any additional parts of the day. Once Jim had the vehicle parked, they exited together.

Venus resumed her hold on Jim’s elbow with the knowledge that a young female replacing the director would only look like a capable understudy if said young female didn’t look like a current tryst. “If anyone asks, you’re my escort.” Venus offered.

He smiled at that added perk, “Happy to do it, but don’t you think it’ll be suspicious that I don’t know your name?”

“Most of the regulars won’t either, only the big-wigs know who I am, and they know the nature of my identity and why I keep it under wraps. Ms. Wolf is fine if you get into a pinch though—and I’m sure you’ll be fast on the fly if you need a better distraction.”

Jim laughed, truer words were rarely spoken. “Well, then…” He extended his hand toward the venue to usher her inward. “What’s your drink of choice, anyway?”

“I have two, sparkling water—and that’s a constant, but for toasts cava brut, by the glass. I don’t want more than two, so if I look cornered into more, cut them with water or be flexible enough to ‘spill’ and ‘drink’ them yourself. I don’t drink very often at all, but this function will require it if I get stuck with a speech.”

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted playfully. His other hand casually made it to the small of her back as he took her into the reception room. Once it was established that only small details were there running their own checks, the hand went away.

Venus took off her jacket and approached the designated table and folded it over her chair. She could tell that Jim was surprised she knew where it was.

“Oh, I’ve done a handful of these, James, don’t be too surprised that I won’t look like a lost kitten throughout. That’s going to be our smug satisfaction for most of today in all the others who’ll be dumbstruck that I’m not.”

“Are you saying you have a hard time making friends?” Wild Jim gave another cavalier smile, he knew the most capable of women agents often suffered that hardship to the point of permanent resting bitch face, yet she seemed pretty spritely for it.

“Oh, I’m _very good_ at making friends. Too good at it, in fact.” She mentioned as she folded open her jacket to show her knife then refolded the jacket. “But Director Korvin wants me to play nice, which I’ll do, but I won’t play dumb.” She looked around the venue again. “If there’s any security issues we’ll have to work on a few signals. If you see it and I’m not at hand—is your drink of choice still a Jack and Coke?” He nodded. “Then raise a glass of it toward me. If I’m close by, touch my elbow with your hand. If _I_ see something, I’ll look at you and wink if I’m not close by, if I _am_ close by, I’ll put my hand on the small of _your_ back. Clear?”

“As boiled ice.”

“Great, I’m going to scout the lavatory and make sure I see my egress points. I recommend you familiarize yourself with the alternate exits too.”

“Way ahead of you,” He winked playfully. “I’ve done a few of these myself.”

Venus smirked at the smarm, “Well, then you should make friends with the bartender. I’ll be back in under five.”

Taking that advice, he headed to the bar and began buttering the bread-jar with a good tip, better conversation, and an order for a Jack & Coke and a glass of Cava Brut.

After fifteen minutes, he reconvened at the table with the proffered drinks as more and more people were beginning to show. He spotted Venus making her casual greetings as people came in.

By the full-swing of the brunch, the blond wound her way through several prominent circles, and several of those circles came to her instinctively, Wild Jim kept up the appearances with anecdotes and small-talk but hell he hated this kind of stuff! He had hoped that as a bodyguard he could’ve blended in as wait-staff or a bartender, or just been the stoic-type, but that was blown to hell when she’d tasked him as being her escort. He thought that it had made sense, though he wondered if there really _wasn’t_ some secret relationship between she and Dir. Korvin, he suspected they had shared a hotel room, and he doubted that was for cost-savings.

He did notice a few of the hanger-ons were starting to get restless, and true to form, a touch assholic. One such gem was in the form of an old buddy, Agent Stark, who seemed frustrated that he wasn’t getting time with the big-wigs while some floozy had their attentions enraptured.

“Associate Director Klein, if I may…” Stark tried to cut in yet again, this time over Venus’s latest nicety.

Unwilling to set the precedence of being spoken over, Venus cleared her throat, “My, the manners your mother gifted you with, agent. As your colleague is clearly quite busy, why don’t you be a peach and fetch him his next drink- you were taking in a gin-and-tonic, weren’t you, Admiral?”

The Admiral slapped her on the back with that, “Indeed I am! Good eye, or is it a good nose?”

“Neither, actually, more of a good memory,” She smiled, tapping his shoulder as she ignored Stark as he fumed to have his own attempts derailed by a pretty, and ballsy, blond. “Good enough to remember that the missus likes the opera, too. Have you been keeping up with the circuit this year? The Met has a wonderful up-and-comer on soprano.”

Klein bellowed a laugh and looked at Stark expectantly, “I’ll have to take your word for it, this foul business of politics has sucked up more of my spare time than Martha appreciates. I tell you what!”

“Now, Admiral, you know the first rule of a happy marriage is happy wife is a happy life. I could see if I could pull some strings and get you two a box next time you have a weekend to yourselves. Say, next month when your 40th anniversary is coming up?” She smiled playfully.

“You are more angel than you are man.” Klein joked.

“Well, you move more heaven and hell on our behalf that I suspect that kind of divine intervention is warranted. It looks like your man here is a bit slow on the up-take, Agent, my friend here wanted his drink refilled. Now run along and fetch his drink.”

“Why you _insolent_ little…”

Jim stepped between the two and gave Stark a friendly smile he didn’t feel.

“Oh, Admiral, have you made the acquaintance of my escort for the day? Jim Cannon?” She continued smoothly. Stark sulked off to go ‘fetch’ the Admiral’s drink. “He’s not actually going to ask you for anything, except maybe an autograph.”

The associate director let out another deep laugh, “Missy, you like to keep those boys on their toes, don’t you?” He patted her shoulder.

“Well, if you give them an inch they take Cuba.” She shrugged. “It’s been wonderful seeing you again, Admiral, I look forward to our next visit, and send my regards to Martha. It’s a shame she couldn’t make it up this time. It’s been ages since I’ve last seen her.”

“It has been too long, take care.” They politely hugged and air-kissed each cheek before splitting, Stark returning with the gin and tonic just as the next high-ranking official materialized to catch the associate director’s attention.

Venus, herself, maneuvered toward a small cloister of people, shaking the hands of several people who’d come in after she’d already been in the midst of necessary ass-kissing. “Paula, Terry, when did they let you two in here?”

Terence spun on his heels and caught himself adjusting his gaze from six-inches lower as he spotted the familiar voice. “Hey you! Don’t you dress up nice!”

Venus offered a deep laugh, “Good to see you, too, but really—am I going to lose the deposit for this place? I thought you were on assignment. When’d you get back in?”

“Oh, Phil tried to shake us about twenty times, on the twenty first time we decided to give someone else a turn in the car. We got in this morning.”

Paula gave a conciliatory nod, her own fatigue apparent, “We were stopping in to report in to the director, but if _you’re_ here, I take it he’s not?”

“No, he got double-booked on another meeting. You look ready to keel over, Paula don’t tell me you both did a stakeout on that boat?”

Paula nodded, still green to the gills, Terry clapped her shoulder sympathetically.

“Oh, we did. And this one gets sea-sick just putting a shell next to her ear.” Terry reminded.

“I know; she showed me that trick with a 50cal before.” Venus jibed, “Well, I doubt you want to do anything but get home for a while, so I won’t keep you from it. If you head out now you should still catch him at the office.”

“By your leave,” Terry swirled his fingers into a saluted-bow, “I’ll let the director know you’ve got everything in line here.”

Venus smiled, “Oh, don’t bother, he knows.”

“He supposes, if I tell him, he’ll _know_.” Terry reiterated, shook hands and then headed out.

The lights dimmed to suggest the first round of speeches, Venus and Jim made their way toward their seats, Venus’s eyebrow shot up at the sight of an indignant Agent Powell stalking over to her as she took her allocated seat. While she vaguely recognized the man, he was barely a blip on the political spectrum, he himself being three steps removed from really even needing to _know_ by name, let alone greet.

“Who the _hell_ do you think you are sitting _here_?” Powell spat, “This is an assigned table, _agent_.”

Venus glanced at her escort expectantly and picked up her glass of cava brut.

“Easy there, buddy, I was invited to sit here.” Jim smiled contentiously. He pulled the chair out for Venus who gleefully accepted a time-out from being on her feet. The shoes really were god-awful.

“By _whom_? I know exactly who _you are_ , Wild Jim Cannon, and the fact that anyone even let you _into_ this convention center is beyond me from all the hot-dogging you’ve done—!”

“James here is my escort, agent.” Venus leaned forward, “On _personal_ invitation from the Interim Director, though I have it on good authority that Phil’s also a fan of his brand of hot-dogging, at least the last few years of it.” She amended with a finger wag. She took a slow sip of the champagne.

“Oh did he? And just how did _you_ manage an invitation to this Agent…?” he queried for her name.

“Agent Powell, if you are trying to impress upon me your lack of attention to detail, I’ll have you know I already knew that about you. Personally, I find it uninspiring that you’d take up the task of policing seating arrangements without knowing to whom you speak, I cannot recommend highly enough that you go fuck off now and maybe scrape up some of your reputation before it spoils.” She shirked her head toward his boss who was looking at Powell in his own fury, “Because while _you_ may not know who I am, personally, your boss’s boss recognizes me which should be indicative enough that you’ve overstepped your bounds.” She folded her hands and rested her chin on them while balancing the champagne flute with her left hand’s finger grip.

Crossing her legs at the ankles, she turned toward the stage to dismiss the man and see one of the first speakers approach while others at her table began to fill in.

“My, to watch the Wolf take down one from my own flock of _incredibly stupid_ sheep,” Came the eye-roll and boom of Colonel Bennett as he sat across the table. “Truly impressive.”

Venus raised her glass in toast to that and took a splash of the liquid for it. “Well, I suspect that’s the Dunning-Kruger Effect at play. Today I seem to be making a handful of new friends.”

“Colonel Bennett, you _know_ this woman, sir?” Agent Powell sneered. “Who is she? Is she _on_ the invitation list, sir?”

Chuckling into her fist, Venus turned to look at the Colonel to see his take on the action, “Agent Powell it seems you missed the introductions the first time I gave them so why you think I’d repeat them is beyond me. Now go sit down, your services as place-mat watcher are unneeded.”

“Why thank you, Colonel, a stellar defense as always.” Venus said playfully back. “Color me impressed, the work you pull off—I assume he’s not representative of your team’s acumen?”

“He’s dumb as a post when it comes to politicking, no common sense at all. Drinking?” He smiled, turning on her.

“Just for porticos. I’ve been nursing this one along since we arrived. You know Wild Jim I take it?”

“I’ve had the _pleasure_.” His voice brimmed with a distinctly displeased tone.

Jim laughed at that, remembering fondly the time he and the colonel had met, “Oh, we’ve had that distinct pleasure, Ms. Wolf. A buddy of mine, Race—I don’t know if you know him, well, he and I go a ways back and Colonel Bennett here replaced our CO after some particularly disturbing information came out about the previous CO…”

Bennett’s eye-roll told Venus this wasn’t a pleasant story despite Jim’s tone in telling it. “He was court-martialed for selling state secrets. So I came in with the instructions to clean house thoroughly.”

“And boy did he ever! At first he liked us for some of that junk, but Race and I had actually uncovered it, and with Bennett breathing down on _our_ necks, we thought maybe _he_ was in on the corruption… At least _Race_ thought that, and well, I often follow Race down the rabbit hole, probably more times than I should, I can admit to that.”

Venus looked at Bennett as both conveyed the converse of the statement, “Do tell.”

“Well, yeah, we broke into his office to check up on him. Seeing he was a good guy just riding our asses, Race came up with the idea to…”

“Race did no such thing,” Bennett corrected, “And some things a lady doesn’t need to hear.”

“Ah, come on, it’s just a war-story! I’m sure she’s heard worse.” Jim laughed, “Anyway, we decided that since the colonel was keeping tabs on us so closely, we’d give him some _other_ surveillance data, put in some spicy pictures into some files, and waited a good few weeks for him to stumble upon them. Those photos were c’est magnifique!”

“Spicy pictures…?” Venus looked at Bennett.

“See, she wants to hear about it!” He crowed, “Since he was keen on keeping tabs of our agents, we shared some of the recon photos we had of our counterparts in MI-6 and CIA as they… entertained each other.”

Venus put her hand to her forehead, “Do you mean porn?” She shook her head.

“Some of the most explicit stuff I’ve seen in the field.” Jim laughed, “We’re talking 18-inch long…”

“That’s enough, Agent Cannon. The lady really doesn’t need to _hear_ the details, and I frankly don’t need to _remember_ them either.”

Venus leaned back in her chair and gave a whistle, “So Bannon was in on that, huh?” She looked over to Bennett as if testing that hypothesis.

“He gets cajoled by Cannon here constantly, they’re the worst team-up in history because try as he may, even Race can’t keep this incorrigible sod out of trouble.”

“Well, I guess that makes Jim the practice-run for his current gig.”

Jim leaned forward, “You know Race?”

Venus glanced to Bennett and then to Jim, “…In passing. I met him before I met you.” That earned her an unexpected scowl. Venus leaned back and turned her attention to the stage.

“Did you know how he got the nickname _Race_?”

“I knew him as Roger.” Venus shrugged, “Really, we _should_ be listening to the presenter.”

“Well, he’d been having a bit of a dry-spell, and this _gorgeous_ woman— and I mean a solid 15 out of 10— pulled up next to him in his new ride. He said…”

Venus put her hand over James’s and gave it a gentle pat, “Shut up or I’ll stab you; I need to listen to this.”

Taking the hint, Jim paused the story for the speech. After two more speakers, brunch was served. Conversations resumed amongst the table-mates though yet another cue seemed to be springing up around them during the lull in speeches. Venus reached into her clutch to check her phone as the time was dwindling down. Seeing no missed calls or texts, nor seeing Darren, she assumed that meant the meeting was running long after all.

“Gentlemen, ladies, if you’ll excuse me,” She shrugged toward the podium. “By all means, feel free to rib me wildly once I get back, but please save the heckling for my dear new friends. She picked up the glass of cava brut, now only half remaining, and went to the stage.

In her absence, Bennett leaned over to Jim, “You have _no idea_ who she is, do you?” Seeing the exact reaction he expected, the white-haired man just rolled his eyes, “Do not get her another glass of _anything alcoholic_.”

 In confident strides, Venus sleeked toward the podium, her eyes casting around the room. Her dad hadn’t been kidding about just _how_ political this thing was. She could see the dozens of cloisters of power-hungry climbers and the factions they bred. With a polite smile as she ran over the many faces, she spotted a new one at the entry doors, one she’d distinctly recalled as having left over 90 minutes ago. Terry looked white as a sheet but trying to compose himself as a professional courtesy. Her eyes flitted from his directly to James Cannon’s where once his were on hers, she gave him a coy wink.

He raised his glass of Jack and Coke in kind. She smiled back and continued looking over the room.

Shit.

She took a polite sip of the cava brut and adjusted the microphone’s height. “Good Afternoon, Ladies, Gentlemen, it’s my utmost pleasure to be here today with each and every one of you…”

With a pause, she waited for the claps, cheers, and random wolf-whistles to subside.

“While I haven’t had the personal pleasure of meeting each of you in this room, I can assure you, I am familiar with each and every one of you. After all, you are the men and women who pay the high cost in keeping our world free. Some of our own paying the highest price, in some forms of our dearest friends who were unable to make the return trips, and others who struggle with the knowledge of what freedom costs. I raise my glass to each of the agents past, present, and future who pay for this very freedom- a toast to our partners who facilitate the political winds and favors, our agents, our sponsors, and our partners who walk in the supporting rafters to aid in keeping our way of life—one based on liberty and meritocracy. Sconce!” She poured a quarter of her glass to the floor and then shot back the rest of it as the others cheered and toasted in response, the sea of raised glasses with notable absences in a handful of cloisters.

Venus set down her now empty glass on the lip of the podium; she crinkled her eyes to adjust to the spotlight.

“This brunch is a long-standing tradition of our fine agency, a celebration to each and every member here as a gesture of gratitude from the current-standing leadership. Over the past 60 some-odd years, this organization has blossomed from the earthen roots of the OSS to become one of the most renowned, dignified, and _trusted_ Intelligence Agencies in the world. Under the guiding light of Phil Korvin, the past 19 years have seen immeasurable growth in technical sectors, old enemies fall off the map and new enemies climb from the ashes. We have withstood with grace and poise as countries have fallen and amassed a nightmarish shape, and will continue to even at this temporary changing of guards. While acting Director Darren Korvin truly wishes he were here, he knows that each and every one of you are patriots and compatriots, loyal to our cause to lady liberty herself. Under him, these last six months have seen an increased focus in combatting terrorism both domestic and foreign. With successful resolution in 80% of the recently closed cases, up from the 67% success rates with a 200% increase in active investigations—we have worked _hard_ to get here, but we’ve also worked smarter. Our agencies have backed some fantastic discoveries in the sciences, R&D creating better satellites, communications, and improving tracking—new medical techniques saving lives, and because of this we have seen less agents fall to this great mortal cost. Truly, ladies, gentlemen, we are entering the golden age of the industry. Now, you didn’t come here to hear me extoll upon your immeasurable accomplishments, you came here to relax and enjoy a lovely day with your peers, so eat, drink, and thank you so much for your service!”

More applause and whistles sounded, coupled with a few howls from the back Venus noted, as she made her way toward where Terry was hovering.

Before she could reach half-way there, she’d been swarmed by a small crowd in her own right, several of which were new faces and not all of them particularly pleased. She was pleasantly surprised to feel Jim’s hand on her elbow, though she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“Where _is_ the Interim Director?” came one of the first insistent questions from an agent with slicked-back waves in her hair.

“Dir. Korvin has a schedule conflict I am not at liberty to discuss, Agent McKenna.” Venus smiled.

“That’s disingenuous of you to know who I am and for me not to know _you_.” She shot back in rapid retort.

Venus eyed the room wishing more of her Alpha alums were actually here, “Most if not all of you _have_ heard of me, though. Apparently I clean up too well for you.” She smiled back with bravado.

“That was a wonderful speech, Phil _and_ Darren would be proud,” was offered by one of her closer allies, General Lowe. He patted her shoulder and shook her hand stiffly.

“We appreciate your continued support.” She smiled back at the man, still watching the negative voices drowning out the positive.

“You really think I believe this bullshit that _you’re_ the Wolf? _The_ Wolf? One of the _legends_ at our agency, but _no one_ seems to have worked with closely? Bullshit!” McKenna pointed at Venus haughtily.

That brought up more of the like, “I heard about the Wolf, alright—that it’s just a damn façade. Why the hell are you here? This is meant for the Director to present, not some _secretary_.”

Terry pushed into the crowd, “Ms. Wolf, there you are. I need to borrow you.” He pulled her wrist taking her from the cluster of nay-sayers. While happy to be out of the horde, she wasn’t thrilled to have her shoes buckling at the pull.

“Terry, what’s happening?” She bobbed her head toward her table suggestively. She’d need to get her jacket and purse.

“When I got back to HQ it was a ghost-town. There were signs that people _had_ been there and then they _weren’t_.”

Venus stopped mid-step, her head whipped around to look at him. “And the Director?”

“…Not a trace of him,” he looked at her with worried eyes.

“Where’s Paula?” Venus pressed forward.

“Pulling up the security footage, what’s _there_ of it.”

She let out a slow breath; she turned to look at Colonel Bennett who looked as gobstruck as she felt. “Colonel, you know what this means, don’t you?”

Bennett looked at the teenager abjectly but gave the cursory nod.

“What _does_ that mean?” asked Wild Jim.

Venus gave a sad smile, “It _means_ , James, that I’m the temporary-acting Interim Director of Intelligence-One, and a few other things…” She rolled her wrist in the air, “I need to make a few phone calls. Colonel, will you get Admiral Klein, AD Stephenson, and AD Wesley? We need to discuss some things urgently.”

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted traditionally and made a hurried step.

“Terry, Jim, with me please. I need to step into the hallway and I need a moment of confidence.” Both men acquiesced, following her as she pulled her cellphone and dialed three times and answered the immediate call-back.

Venus looked at the two men expectantly; they both turned around and pretended to not be able to hear her. “We have a situation. I’m sitting in on the third chair. As I’m sure you can gather I have another seating arrangement to attend to as well, so I will need _you_ to be ready to backfill if anything were to come up most unforeseen.”

Terry and Jim could hear muffled swears that they were sure were peppered with questions or at a minimum suppositions as it continued in a tirade, the blond gave curt nods and occasional affirmations and even fewer declinations.

“There’s another thing I need you to do.” She said after a long moment. She waited for the piqued language to peter out. “Contact Phil, he needs to be warned.”

“Yeah? No shit Sherlock!” De snapped back. “ _And you_? Do you have enough protection on you?”

Venus laughed, “Who are you asking?”

“Of course the fuck you wouldn’t. _Shit_ … alright. Be careful, I’ll get in touch with some people. Keep in contact! So help me if you don’t check in every two hours I’ll skin you alive myself.”

Venus blew out a sigh, “And here we thought you didn’t _have_ a maternal instinct. I’m going to HQ to check on what’s there. See if you can get in touch with Snow. Let him know I’m going to talk with Bennett, and that I’ve got Midas with me.”

She pulled the phone off her ear at the piercing yell that shot through the receiver.

“…Um, surprise?” She said after a long moment the youth in the lilt evident, “No, of course that’s not… I have a hypothesis, yes, seriously, I _have_ to… okay, _okay_! I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Yes, once I get to the car—do you _hear_ yourself? I’ve got to go, no, I’m hanging up. Bye.”

She slipped the phone back into her pocket, she could see the dish-plates that had replaced James’s eyes, she wondered if he recognized her voice, but doubted it.

“Is that how you know I’m Jim _Loose_ Cannon?” He nudged toward the phone.

“Can we parley this to after my next ass-chewing?” She thumbed toward the room. “Because I’ve got a round-two already cued to go.”

Terry patted her shoulder sympathetically. “I do _not_ envy you.”

“Gee, thanks Terry. Do me a solid, check to see who’s headed out.”

“Of course, kid.” Venus shook his hand before he disappeared back into the main hall. With a shrug as they split ways, she returned to the room to spot Bennett with the consortium of requested members at their table. Squaring her shoulders, she made quick steps to approach them.

“Gentlemen, if you’d be so kind, we have business to discuss in the kitchen.” She shirked a nod toward the other room. The men looked between themselves and followed her in short order.

Inside the crowded galley-way, Venus spun on her heels, “James, could you pull around the car? We’ll be leaving after this.”

“Are you sure you should be alone?” His eyebrow shot up.

“…Alright, let me make it easier, James, I’m ordering you to go get the car as your acting Director.” She shrugged her eyebrow in emphasis. For a moment, she could see the hurt play over his face but he nodded. “We’re at an Intelligence One Brunch, I’m secure here. I’ll be there in… 15 minutes. If not, then come look for me. Route A.”

He nodded and headed off, once out of range, she laid in.

“Colonel Bennett, as you can gather from what I just told Cannon, I’m currently the acting interim director. Obviously that won’t work for very long at all. Gentlemen, I propose that if anything happens to me, that control will go over to Colonel Bennett until Interim Director Darren Korvin or Director Phil Korvin can be recalled. Admiral Klein, I’d like for you to see about getting Phil on the horn to get back.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She looked at him expectantly, seeming to pick up on the urgency of the order, he left to accomplish that. Refocusing on the other members, she added, “I believe the OCM was a farce, and my father is missing, presumably this is a coup, gentlemen. I can tell you recognize why I’m sharing this with you. I’m going to look into this.”

She looked toward Klein’s retreating form.

“…I believe there’s some resentment being stirred up due to the _nature_ of Darren Korvin’s appointment. I believe the choicest word is nepotism.” She looked at the remaining men, spotting a nod, she honed in. “As you gentlemen are aware, that’s _not_ the case. But Alpha One is a guarded secret entrusted to the very few, with my father being missing, I am also acting on his behalf there until he can be recovered, as such my focus will be in that capacity and that directionality. If this goes long, Stephenson, Wesley, I’ll need both of you to maintain communications with on-going operations in the interim, and Bennett I’ll need you to flush Klein’s loyalists. Wesley, you’ll take on Klein’s _free agents_ and maintain the flow, Stephenson, look in on Bennett’s operatives as need be until this affair is over. If, of course, this is resolved quickly the standing order will be to flush Klein’s loyalists. Bennett, name your successor too, please.”

Bennett smiled, “Phil Korvin.”

That earned him a glowing smile from the blond; she shot her hand out to shake his, “Some of my people will be reaching out to you shortly. Good luck gentlemen.”

Bennett, while taking her hand gave it a squeeze, “Be very cautious. Intelligence One is a different animal than Alpha One.”

“Oh, I’m more than aware. If anything happens to either my father or I—nail the bastards, you hear me?”

Bennett blinked at that. “What do you think is going on?”

“…A coup, of course. What did _you_ think it was?” Venus retrieved her hand, “Adieu.”

“Venus, what’s your _plan_?” Bennett called back.

She shook her head, “I’m going to find my dad, and then I’m going to flush out the people responsible for this. What I-1 chooses to do with that information is hardly of my concern at this moment, but too many of your guys don’t seem to believe in the Wolf, and now a few of them are going to learn the hard way.”

-Cry Wolf-

At the loading area to the kitchen, Venus spotted the familiar looking Jaguar. Wild Jim rolled the window down as he waved her over.

“Thanks for warming her up for me.” Venus smiled, hopping into the passenger-seat. “James, I think it’s time we share need-to-knows.”

Jim shrugged at that, “I couldn’t agree more.” He smiled, “How the heck are you the next in line for Intelligence One?”

With a laugh, Venus kicked off her shoes, “Well, I say that… and then that’s your first one out the gate?” She stretched her neck, “How about I start by telling you how I know you?”

The look he shot through her was banal.

“I’ve known you for about 11 years. You remember the woman you left at the altar in Afghanistan?”

Jim’s face was crestfallen, “That’s not what _happened_ …”

“…That’s factually not true. You did, in fact, leave her standing at the altar. That’s not to say _why_ or _how_ that happened, and believe it or not, I know why _and_ how. I also know she carries a grudge like a hatchet. You were double-dealt, the Midas Touch as you call it. She told her partner and me about it over her drinking binder to mend her broken heart about being stilted, and Darren was happy to remind her that she dodged a bullet by not getting married, two years relationship aside. No offense, he’s just anti-marriage.” Venus looked at Jim to measure him. “Darren didn’t think it made sense, of course, for you to ditch her. You have a reputation of being fickle, but after two years, and you begging _her_ to marry _you_ … he did some digging. I helped, and we found the hole you got thrown in. Some creative paperwork, and my practicing some Urdu, and we were able to come to an arrangement to get you out after 2 months there. By then, I take it you had a debt to pay back to the jackass who put you in there, and that you thought you’d just messed up your chances so you stayed out that a-ways for a while. We kept tabs on you, of course, and hell, even threw you some contract gigs when your agency work dried up. Darren recognized that destructive behavior, you know.”

Jim nodded, “Yeah, I know about him and what happened to his family. That’s a bum deal Korvin went through, even by _my_ standards.” He shook his head.

Venus smiled sadly, “We have a tail,” she glanced at the rearview. “…What do you know about his second kid?”

“…Second kid?” He looked at her, then back to the tail. “What second kid?”

Venus smirked, “Oh come on now, if you’ve heard about the Wolf, you’ve heard the other rumors, too.” With an evasive J-turn, Jim circled around the block onto wrong-way one-way traffic as they continued their conversation.

“What I’ve heard doesn’t make sense. People say the Wolf is a front so the Korvin clan can keep power traveling down the family line. The General was known for being all about familial lines, being a dynastic prick… but Phil worked his way up… and Darren… well, he came out of left field, but whenever he did anything with I-1 it was clear he _had_ tradecraft. A _lot_ of it.”

“…Your lady-friend, what name did she give you?”

“De Halloway.” He swung the car around, changing directions to go with the flow of traffic and cut onto an exit, gunning the engine and momentarily shaking the tail.

“…And who does De work for?” Venus smiled.

“A small outfit called Alpha-One, but I’d never heard of it before, and only hear of whispers of it now, almost as frequently as I hear rumors about the Wolf.”

“Well, allow me to confirm for you that Alpha One _and_ the Wolf are very much real.” Venus leaned forward.  “And Darren works at Alpha One. He’s the third chair of three chairs. He’s had that seat for 13 years. I’ve been his protégé, training for that chair for almost as long.”

“…So what’s this shit about his _second_ kid…?” Jim looked at her confounded, he looked back into the side-view mirror to spot another two tails where he’d just shaken off the one.

Venus smiled, “Well, I’ve been telling you so much and you haven’t even told _me_ anything. What was Darren worried about, Jim? He told you something and I need to know what that something was.”

Jim frowned, “He thought the software was manipulated, that there’s a mole working on a coup… he was trying to flush them, but he couldn’t just do it on one front.”

“…So we’re the second front?” Jim swerved violently to pull them onto a side road and try to shake the second tail. His arm shot across Venus’s chest to keep her pinned back to the seat.

“B-I-N-G-O.” He spelled out, “And he’s pretty sure they’re playing for keeps. He didn’t want to bias your view.”

Venus shook her head, “Damn it, that pain in my…” She looked out the window, “Jim, how old do you really think I am? Canning politeness, of course.”

“…30, the shit you’re talking about though, for you to have been that good and that fast… it’s scary.”

Venus laughed, “This one will be a little weirder—what’s Darren’s actual name?”

“…I don’t get it, you mean like his middle name or something? Or is Darren a nom-de-plume?”

“Darren has a 15 year old daughter. Adopted. He legally changed his last name to hers, but at I-1, he uses the old surname Korvin, he keeps it active, keeps his dossier current because directors come from a very small pool—either staircases of associate directors moving up, or parallel currents like directors of other organizations like the CIA, DEA, or …say, A-1. He’s qualified because he’s one of the three chairs that run A-1, but in Alpha, he goes by his legal name.”

“And where do _you_ tie in then? Are you really what they say? A smoke-screen to give credibility to his 15 year old? Building her resume for her so she can just step in?”

The two tails dropped out of view, Venus frowned, they knew by now where they were headed and simply couldn’t be bothered to keep pursuit. “The Wolf is real, Midas. You know Phil Korvin wouldn’t let _bullshit_ propagate. Not actual bullshit. That’s why, as entertaining as your anecdote was… well, I know Phil too. Race is called Race because he got the fastest time on that track, but you called him Race years before he ever ran that course.” She drew her gun from the clutch as Jim put the vehicle in park. “We’re not getting the deposit back on this car, I’m afraid.”

“No, we’re probably not, but we’re here.” Wild Jim pulled out his own piece. “Let’s go.”

While Jim took the stealth approach, walking in near-whispers, Venus strode confidently up to the door making no attempt at subterfuge. She shoved open the door with a hard thrust as if announcing her arrival and gave Jim a strained look.

“Why bother hiding? They know we’re here.” She looked at the cameras. “But the real question for you assholes is where is Director Darren Korvin?”

Venus walked into the second hallway; the building mostly empty made it an easy stroll. She found the panel she was looking for and opened it. She pulled out five breakers, the hallway went pitch-black. Jim turned to look at her in disbelief, surprised at how much she seemed to know about the layout.

She gestured to the stairwell; she put her finger to her mouth then thumbed upward suggestively. He nodded and followed her lead. Once they were at the third floor, Venus pulled him toward the fire door. In a low whisper she asked, “What size suit are you?”

“Really? You’re asking that now?”

She winked, “Broad shoulders like that, I’ve gotta, 36”?”

“…Yeah, actually,” he spotted the vent as if putting it together.

“Okay, well then that’s not going to work. The security station is one more floor up for the surveillance equipment. You a religious man?”

Jim subdued his laugh, “No.”

That earned him an earnest smile, “That makes two of us. There’s three possibilities we’re approaching. One- Paula is in there, diligently working—life is good, we have friends we can count on, and allies at hand. Two- Paula isn’t there, there’s sign of a struggle—life is hard, we have friends who are counting on us, but allies all the same. Three- Paula isn’t there and a trap’s set waiting for us—life is fickle, and we have some friends to greet, and we’re all the allies we get. Let’s go check, shall we?”

“Maybe I should go in first.” Jim suggested, “Midas’s touch, at least I’m used to getting clobbered.”

Venus let out a nod.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, though…” Jim turned to look at her, “What do you get out of pretending to be the Wolf?”

“Who the hell said I’m pretending? Jim, by the end of today you’re going to know just how real the Wolf is, and when that’s all said and done, I really hope we’re still old friends.” She clapped his arm, “Because I think you’re a pretty okay guy. One of the few things I’d agree with Race about.”

“Yeah, well, by the end of today I hope you tell me why you’re the acting interim director, deal?”

“Deal!” She smiled back, “All the same, I might take you up on that offer to go in first.”

They exchanged a set of nods, Jim pressed forward and opened the door to the surveillance room, his hand went to his mouth at the sight before him. He backed out of the room, turning to look at the woman behind him, the perplexed look in her eyes told him she hadn’t thought through option 4.

“Jim, we _have_ to go in there and look around.” Venus said through her own displeasure. “…We have to check if she’s _alive._ ”

“…She’s not.” Jim said flatly. “I’ll keep guard at the door, I don’t want us ambushed. This is getting _real_ ugly.”

Venus pulled out her cellphone and dialed twice hanging up on the first ring of each before slipping into the room with it and her gun. In her first steps into the room, she squirreled the device away in her bra. She scanned across the grizzly crime scene.

With more questions than answers, she looked at the blood spatter across the walls. Someone had punched a hole through Paula’s chest with a .45cal and thoroughly redecorated the room. Questions about why she was killed, and what that meant for her dad, and her uncle, let alone herself flooded over her until motion on the camera made her still, she drew in a whistling gasp.

He was alive! At least for now, she reminded herself and jumped over the body to pull up the footage, locating the floor information and looking over the hostiles. By her count, there were 19 of them. She looked at Paula, her gun was on the ground, and the bloom of the GSW, she knew she’d been shot from a few feet away; the blood spatter behind the door was new though. Paula might not have gotten them all, but she took at least one bastard with her. Venus looked over the fallen agent with a sad frown, she’d liked Paula. She’d known her from a few potlucks her uncle had her tag along on.

She was one of _his_ , Venus closed her eyes. “Rest in Power, I’ll pay these assholes back Paula. I promise that.” Sounds of gunfire quickly refocused her attention. Her eyes raked over the security panels, there were four coming their way fast.

Apparently they had _23_ friends, or maybe even more if they’d been in blind-spots on purpose.

Venus slid back the gun jam to make sure the round was housed and ready to go. The question wasn’t how many she could take down; it was how to get through the day without _having_ to. She looked at Paula and wondered what the _fuck_ happened to make an agent turn on another agent, and outside of _theater_ no less.

With one last look at the monitor, she could assess Darren’s condition, from afar at least. He was alive, that meant something, but what that something was, she wasn’t for certain.

Taking a step out of the room, Venus kept her gun at the ready. “James, we have company coming, we’ve got to move.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Jim offered back, “Up or down?”

“…The Director is on the 10th floor. Essential Personnel are absent from the screens, nothing about this feels right.”

“Oh, I think a good portion of those essential personnel _are_ here, we just aren’t on their good side right now.” Jim suggested, nudging his head toward the oncoming crowd.

“There’s 4 there, my rough count is 23, but who’s to say if more are coming.” Venus offered. “Jim, I have an idea. I need you to trust me.”

“Always been a fan of the Wolf’s work, but what’s the rough outline?”

“...You say you aren’t paid enough for this shit, and surrender.” She turned to look at him to express her seriousness, “Reputations make this business, Jim, they think you’re a quitter, I know better, but they don’t. I can talk my way through for them to let go of Darren, but for that to happen, they’ve gotta think they have me, so we’re going to get into a standoff with these four and then you’re going to bail and _hard_. That’s our only way of keeping the body-count down.”

His jaw hit his chest, “And what’s the proposed acceptable body-count? Ours?”

Venus rolled her eyes, “No, if they look like they’re going to kill me, by all means, renege.” She handed him the gun she’d lifted from Paula’s side. “I’d keep that one _extra_ _hidden_ if I were you.”

Taking aim, Venus shot out the lights in three smooth trigger-pulls, “My name is Venus, by the way. I wouldn’t share that if I were you, though.”

“Woman, are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself _killed_ …”

“Like hell _I am_.” Venus darted across the hall and propped herself into a protected corner. “I’m too cute to die in such a frumpy dress. We all have reputations, Mr. Cannon, and I aim to keep mine intact.”

Using the reflection off the nearby water cooler, Venus took aim and opened fire, readily missing the four agents as they rushed them.

“Stay where you are! That was your warning shot!”

The fire was volleyed back, drywall dust sprinkled Venus’s hair.

“Throw down your weapons and we can talk through that,” came the rebuttal.

“Oh sure, I’ll get right on that, just like the A/V tech.”

There were more shots masking the crackle of a radio. While neither Jim nor Venus could hear the exchange, both assumed it wasn’t particularly bad news when the shots slowed.

“Throw out your weapons and surrender. You’re under arrest for suspicions of treason.”

“Treason?!” Jim shot out, he gave one last look to his counterpart, “Hell no. I’m out. This gig doesn’t pay enough for _that_ …” He tossed his gun into the hallway. “I’m coming out, don’t shoot!”

“Where do you think you’re going!? They’re full of it! Damn it, James, don’t be an idiot—”

“Now, as for you, Ms. Wolf, I think it’s time you come out nice and slow. Your power-grab failed! If you are willing to testify against your employer, maybe we can work out a worth-while deal for you, too.”

“…My employer? What the hell are you idiots talking about? I’m the current acting director of Intelligence One, who do you think I’m going to roll on, POTUS?”

The laugh that carried through the air made the hairs on the back of her neck stand upright.

“Acting Director of Intelligence One? Don’t make me _laugh_. No one even knows who you _are_ , you weren’t _named_ it, and the real Director hasn’t been in contact with the agency for _months_! Now if you know where he _is_ … that’ll really help you along!”

Venus could hear the sounds of shuffling, from the reflection, she could tell that Jim had been subdued by one of the four and escorted out of the firing range; that was promising.

“Tell me why you killed that woman in the surveillance room. That’s an order.” She called back in full blustery regalia.

“She shot at us first! She even killed one of our men when we were trying to apprehend her.”

“And why were you trying to apprehend your fellow agent?” She pushed.

There was discussion between three men of the men, “She put her allegiance in the hands of tyrants. I thought you gave a whole speech about _not_ doing that.”

“Succession plans are succession plans, gentlemen, and the Interim Director was announced months ago. Darren Korvin has every right to claim his post, but while you have him illegally detained executive actions had to be taken. His appointed backup is not particularly thrilled by this, so you let him go _now_ , and maybe, just _maybe_ I won’t have you dancing at the ends of a rope for high treason against the United States. Hell, if you _beg_ maybe I’ll just have you posted in the Arctic Circle for the rest of your collective careers.”

More shots volleyed in controlled bursts.

“Come out now or we’ll come _in_ , and we will not come in peace.”

“No way, numb-nuts, you’re obviously not running this operation, who the hell is your squad command giving you such stupid orders? Did he authorize use of lethal force? On US soil, no less! You boys sure are _fucked_. That’s definitely in the realm of domestic terrorism charges. I tell you boys what, you go fetch your master and have him come here to have a nice little chat, and then we’ll arrange that posting of yours to the wrong side of a polar bear’s asshole, or prison, I’m open.”

Venus heard the squawk of a radio and the sounds of heavy doorways from corresponding floors.

“Well, what _I_ think is going to happen is you are going to throw your gun over, or we’re going to put you on the business-end of my sig sauer, here, and instead of dazzling you with brilliant conversation, we’ll just riddle you with bullets.”

“That offer has a real limited time to accept,” replied the other agent.

“Well, I thought about it as much as it deserves, and I’m still going with a hard pass.” Venus sent a spray of gunfire over their heads and tucked closer to the wall. “As the acting interim director; and you boys clearly don’t know this about being a director, we don’t in principle negotiate with terrorists and we most certainly don’t surrender to them. I’m giving you one last warning to call your boss down here for he and I to have a chat, if you waste any more of my time I’m going to be forced to put you down. I’d still like to try to end this peacefully, but if you think my gun here _isn’t_ the greatest of peacemakers, well, you’ll be corrected soon enough. You have until the count of ten.”

The hallway exploded in shots as the three men opened fire. At a lull in the shooting, the sound of the heavy door throwing open made Venus look in that direction. She thought as much, it was that asshole Stark!

“I knew I smelled bad cologne…” She called back, “Boys, is this your squad leader? Or are you not willing to cooperate with me?”

More gunshots exploded forward.

Venus ducked low and rolled across the spray she fired three times stopping the gun-fight as the bullets hit their marks, incapacitating them with various shoulder wounds. She curled against different cover. “Agent Stark, this is the acting Interim Director of Intelligence One. Is this bullshit coming from you? Call your dogs off before I have them put to sleep.”

“Move in.” Stark called into the radio. The sounds of dozens of boots swarmed the hallway. “You don’t tell me what to do! _Acting_ Interim Director? Don’t make me laugh! I already have to deal with _one_ prima-donna faking it ‘til he makes it. What are _your_ credentials, you wiped yourself when you took a shit this morning?”

“That’s beyond your capabilities by that smell,” Venus retorted. “But the real question is, are you too stupid to check with Klein whether that is true or not?”

She heard him speak into the radio, “Bring him over.” He glared in her general vicinity. “I’m done with you traitors! Intelligence One is a noble, mission-driven agency, and whatever _your_ agenda is, it’s _done_.”

The sound of grunts and shoves were heard as Darren was forcibly shoved through the stairway doors.

With a wince, she could see he was hurting, he’d been worked over pretty good, she suspected that was why Paula drew her piece her last time while coming to the defense of the Director.

“Director Korvin, are you alright sir?” She called back.

“He’s about to be summarily executed for treason. You’ll be next.” Stark offered back.

“Wow, you really don’t know how tribunals work, _or_ due process, or even what treason means… shit, Stark, you’re even dumber than that mustache makes you look. What do you hope to accomplish by killing him?”

“The straightforward removal of a power-hungry jackal from a position he’s in no authority to have stolen.”

“…So you think Phil Korvin did _not_ assign him?” Venus asked aghast at his own naivety. “Director Korvin?”

“…What the fuck are you doing here?” He asked, his voice sounded stuffy, he’d probably been worked over a few rounds.

“Wow, hi. Good to hear from you too. Stark, what do you think you’re going to do? Kill your way to the top? To the middle? The Director’s position is in accordance to the wishes of the Pentagon and the President. He’s not going to suddenly change his mind, and there’s going to be some very, very real questions as to who did this. If you want to live for greater than 3 months, and that’s really a long estimate—CIA operatives are usually faster at retaliatory acts than that, your best bet is to stop this now and roll on Klein.”

“We aren’t looking for a power-grab! We’re looking for direction from the _actual_ Director! From Phil Korvin and his rightful successor!”

“That sounds like more of what I’m telling you which is to let him go or I’ll fucking shoot you.” Venus reasoned. “But if you’d like _more_ incentive, let me explain away Brunch to you. You know how all those super important looking people knew who I was and didn’t ask or question my presence let alone my presentation at the height of the event? That’s because they know I’m the designated backup to Director Korvin here. They also know who I am, and that I’ve been in the business for more than a decade, which sure, to some old fogey like you doesn’t seem like much, but I’ve been toward the top for most of that time, and that’s more experience than you’ve banked in your 20 plus years of mediocre attempts at stealing credit from the real performers.”

“For someone with the caliber of legend as the Wolf, it’s strange that you’d make yourself an even easier target.” Stark snarled. “Or is the myth that far divorced from the truth? You can’t bother to try living without him, is that it?”

“Actually, I came here to let you know that if you kill him, you’ll be absolutely fucked. See, as I said, I’m the Acting Interim Director, and my first order of business was to set _my_ contingency, and my _second_ order of business was to start working on rooting through your illicit activities and your agents… of course, that would likely take some time, but more time than you’d have to figure out who was ordered to do what.”

Stark’s jaw dropped, he growled, “This nepotism has to stop!”

Venus pressed on ignoring his input she sent out a fishing lure, “I seem to recall you had an Operation Press-and-Fold? After that operation, things seemed to start looking _up_ for you…”

The shift in his tone told her she landed her cast, “And what do you propose, I let you go so you can stop that little fishing expedition?!” He shot back.

“My, I can see you’re upset and clearly not thinking things through. Let’s break it down for you. You will release Director Korvin, you want him out of Intelligence-One, you feel like his appointment was unjust, unjust enough to _kill_ for… and I can appreciate that sentiment. That said, while you’re a manipulative prick and I don’t really like you; I’m sure the Director doesn’t like you much either, but the difference between he and I is he’ll stomach working with an abysmal prick like you whereas I will not. The only way my orders don’t go into effect is if he walks out of here and thus negates my Interim status.”

“And why would I let him out of here? You’re _here_ , I can tell him exactly what to do and he’d have to listen.”

“Oh sure, he’d be under duress, but everyone who knows him would also know that. Stark, you’re not a killer. If you were, you’d have killed that coward Jim as soon as he gave up his gun. You want change, I get that, but the person you’re working for wants real power… and he _will_ kill for it. You let the Director go and have him name a different successor. Then he steps down and you don’t need either of us to die, and you still get what you want. Isn’t that bank?”

Darren shot a glare in the girl’s general direction.

“Of course, you can’t _just_ have him walk outside and say ‘my new successor _is_ …’ because they’ll _know_ it’s under duress. Or at least they’ll know that if I’m AWOL, so the only way it’ll work is if he’s got full, free mobility and I show up in a few days. So what do you say?”

Stark looked in the girl’s general vicinity. “Throw out your weapon and come out.”

Venus glanced at the other agents, “Are your men going to lower _their_ weapons once I’m unarmed? Because I’m not signing up for being shot...”

“If she comes out unarmed, don’t shoot her.” Stark called past her.

With a kick, she sent her gun into the hallway.

“Damn it, what are you _doing_?!” Darren hissed, “Get out of here!”

“That’s the plan, _sir_ , after you though.”

Stark chortled at the riposte. “Cuff those two and get them somewhere secure.” He pulled Darren’s shoulder, “As for you, 24 hours. You have one day or I kill them both.”

“It’ll take 48 hours at a minimum to do what you’re asking!” Darren seethed.

“Are the prisoners hands secured?” Stark asked casually.

“Yes,” came the response from a 30-something year old agent, with escorts on either side of each captives, they were marched toward Stark and Korvin.

“Then let’s make something clear here,” Stark snapped his fingers and pointed at the girl. The speed of which the fist flew into her nose and knocked her back, off her three-inch heels was only marginally faster than Darren’s reaction time to lunge. Stark’s hold on Darren’s lapel tightened. “Make it another.”

Teetering forward Venus blinked as a second and third round of punches connected with her torso.

“We can keep going until you accept the terms and conditions, in fact.” Stark said with an air of indifference.

“Come off it! You’ve made your point!” Wild Jim called from the side.

Venus shot a glare his way, a fist dusted her cheek, with a stagger, she regained her footing, spacing it in response to the aggressive blows. As another punch went toward her face, she leaned back to get hit with a breeze instead. A knee to her stomach folded her in half, she spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Stark, stop! You’re not _listening_ , it _takes_ 48 hours to do what you’re asking! I can get the ball _rolling_ in 24, sure, but it won’t be a done deal unless all the boxes are checked! What do you think that I can just _name_ my schedule with the Sec Council?! And the confirmation you want won’t come through on the dot, either! Stop _hitting_ her!”

Stark held up his hand to pause the barrage. “I’m impressed that you’d go so far for a subordinate. So who is she to you?”

“…Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t even know?!” Darren tilted his head back, “Oh fuck me, you really are incompetent…”

Not liking the tone, he lowered his hand in a swift chop, the agent pinning Venus’s cuffed hands back behind her grabbed her by the throat and began to squeeze.

At the final reach of what she’d tolerate, Venus slammed her spiked heel into the man’s in-step and head-butted back into his jaw, he dropped to the ground in an undignified clatter, as he clamored back to his feet, Venus didn’t struggle with him.

“All this for a piece of tail, it must be pretty good tail.” Stark offered toward Darren, “Or is this just bluster and a sacrifice play? Because I can _promise_ you, if you fuck with us, they will die _horribly_.”

“She’s not a fucking piece of tail you sleaze-ball!” Darren growled.

“He’s worked with her for over ten years. They’re partners!” Wild Jim shot off to end the stand-off, “Extra-agency style… you’ve never done mercenary work, so you wouldn’t get that kind of relationship, Stark, but when you don’t have Uncle Sam picking you up, your partner is the closest person in your life.”

Venus turned to look at the older man as he babbled on; she looked at him in stunned disbelief.

“What are you doing?! Don’t tell him anything, James!” She finally retorted.

“A partner, huh?” The man she’d splayed out grabbed her arm with enough force to leave deep bruises. “Why’d he get one so green if he’s so important?”

“She’s been pegged as my protégé for as long as I’ve known her.” Darren’s head bowed. “If you touch her again I’m not going to be able to overlook that you’re _just_ a lackey.”

“That’s funny, why would _you_ have needed a protégé that long ago?” Stark laughed to himself, “Or is protégé code-word for illegitimate love-child? I’ve at least heard _that_ rumor.”

The involuntary pupillary reaction was response enough as far as Stark was concerned.

“Fine, you have 36 hours. Not a minute longer. Clock starts now.” He uncuffed Darren’s hands and shoved him back. “Tick-tock.”

-Cry Wolf-

De stared in disbelief at Darren as she pressed the ice-pack into his split cheek.

“…That’s _your_ plan?”

“That’s _the_ plan.” He said firmly.

It begged the question, “Do you have a concussion?”

He rolled his eyes. “I have less than 36 hours. I have a crumb-trail that will likely indict a third of Phil’s closest advisors, and an _idiot_ has my kid as a hostage and doesn’t seem to realize that’s what this is. As far as we’re all concerned, no one has had eyes on me yet. Bennett is the acting interim director until I can find Phil and _drag_ his ass back to DC if need be, but while I’m tracking _him_ , I need people I genuinely trust to keep eyes on Venus and make sure they don’t do anything unforgivably stupid.”

“Like mounting a siege on an Intelligence One Head Quarters? That level of stupidity?”

Darren shook his head, “Versus what? Waiting them out?”

“Well, _yeah_ …” De rolled her eyes in a vigorous nod, “She’s probably half-way out of there already, I mean, sure I could have a getaway driver she’d recognize stashed nearby, but anything extra to that seems like overkill.” She smirked.

“Problem there is she’s mature enough to realize those grunts haven’t fired enough neurons together to realize they’re facilitating treason and _too_ immature to realize she should shoot them anyway.”

“Why the hell would you have named her as your successor for I-1, Darren?! It was thick-headed of you. She’s too green for that kind of politicking!”

“It’s because I trust her tactical decisions in theater, I _knew_ we had moles but I was too insulated to see just who, her instincts were right on the mark… but damn she goes full white-hat when she shouldn’t.” He shook his head only stopping when the stinging pain caught up to him. “Did you get in touch with Race?”

“Since when did I get demoted to your secretary?” De growled; his demeanor didn’t change as his demand remained. “For fuck’s sake, Bennett talked to him. Their whole family is going to come here on a field-trip, is that what you wanted, because it’s what you got!”

He shook his head, “That’s not surprising to _me_ at least, but I’m pretty sure that only a handful of people at I-1 know they’d potentially get involved, and not a one of them are the assholes that have my kid.”

“This may sound insensitive, but what are you going to do about DC? You can hardly blow off the President, Darren, so is Bennett going there and tipping your hand, or are you going and undercutting your own plan?”

“Door Number Three… I get Phil back in _time_ for that. Of which, I’ll need a kit ready for me when I get back assuming your Option 1 doesn’t pan out.”

“…Which option 1? That Venus just needs a familiar getaway driver?”

“And you got it in one!” He clapped slowly.

“Darren, are you actively trying to kill yourself? I can’t allow you to take that risk. You _have_ to outsource that op, I’m serious; that’s a legitimate command not a suggestion.”

“And that’s my _kid_ …”

“And the people you’re about to piss off personally, I’m aware. You’re only on _loan_ to I-1, I need you to make it back with all ten fingers and ten toes to Alpha-1, the sooner the better. Trust me, we’ll get her out. And you had damn better have a backup plan to your shitty one!”

“I have four or five.” He said obstinately with shirked eyebrows.

-Cry Wolf-

Inside the cramped custodial closet, Jim and Venus sat with their backs flush, it had been hours since they’d been deposited there but the sounds of motion outside the door were finally slowing down. “…How’re you feeling there?” Jim asked with a shoulder nudge.

With a thin sigh, Venus gave up on another tug to her cuffs. “Ambitious. Question for you, is that rumor about how good of a kisser Loose Cannon is true…?”

“Uh, yeah…” She could practically hear him blush. “Why? Don’t tell me I charmed you? I didn’t realize you’re really Darren’s _kid_ … oh shit, _that’s_ why the old colonel was mad I gave you alcohol! Are you _really_ only 15?!”

“Focus, please. Think you could lift my earring then? I can pick these locks if you can.”

With a laugh, Jim continued, “Sure, yeah, 15 that’d be nuts…” The atmosphere in the room was getting frigid as Jim twisted toward his counterpart.

“If I were 15 I’d have been writing release memos on your behalf since I was 5.” She offered, “And the gravitas of my exploits from 10 years ago would be pretty bad-ass, don’t you think?”

Jim landed a breathy chuckle on her ear.

“Try not to mangle my earlobe, it’s bad enough that jerk punched me in the nose. It had better not be broken!” She offered to distract from the awkwardness as his tongue wrapped around her ear. She suppressed a shiver at the wet sensation. Hot breath hit her ear canal as he worked on untangling the dangling earring.

As his tongue drew back, his teeth raked over her lobe in one last pull, the weight of the metal earring lifted. Darting his pink tongue to rearrange it, he leaned toward her wrists as they climbed up to meet him half-way, the earring was guided into the key-slot as her own nimble fingers folded to surround the wetted accessory.

“…I’d say that confirms it, you _are_ a good kisser.”

Jim laughed, “Yeah well, don’t let that get around about how you know.” He turned back around as her cuffs clicked open. She pulled her arms in front of her and rubbed the circulation back into her wrists.

Taking up the freed key, she worked to unshackle Jim. “For the record, I’m not his illegitimate love-child.”

“I know. That kid died 15 years ago.” He patted her shoulder, “…he _adopted_ you? So you really _are_ 15?!”

Venus offered a dark smirk as she danced her fingers in jazz-hands, “Gravitas.” With a roll of her stiff shoulders, she looked at the gap below the closet door. “Let’s see where our hosts have gotten, shall we?”

“I’d much rather find where they _aren’t_ …” Jim suggested, “We could slip out of here with them none-the-wiser.”

“Aw, where’s your adventurous spirit? Let’s use that Midas Touch.”

He shook his head, “Heck no! I’m supposed to be your bodyguard and escort, I need to get you _out_ of here…”

With a lick of her teeth, she glanced around the room for anything useful. There wasn’t much, but she could probably finagle a few smoke bombs and hell, real bombs from the cleaners. “And you will, but first I want to see who the traitors are, I’m a very _direct_ director—acting interim, of course.”

“Your dad’s the _acting_ interim director.” He reminded her.

“Yeah, but you know he’s acting under duress.” She beamed a wide smile at him; the mega-watts behind it had him charmed to it.

“…Crikes… you’re almost as bad as Race’s ward.”

“Jonny or Hadji?” Venus asked, “I mean if it’s about the bombs, I’d think that’s a Hadji trait, you ever see him draw a knife? He’s _fast_ , for a civilian.” She shrugged.

Jim blinked, “How do you know them?!”

With a non-committal shrug, Venus worked to pull over the necessary components. “Once I get these prepped, I suggest you get the door.”

“Fifteen. You’re 15…” he said more to remind himself, he pulled out the pistol he’d stashed away before, “Here, let me show you something…”

Venus turned to look at the man and at the semi-auto.

“You know how to disarm a person quick when they’re holding one of these? More than that smile, I mean?” She rolled her eyes.

“If this is where you show me how to grab behind the trigger, I’m going to hurt your feelings and say I know a hell of a lot more ways than that.”

“Yeah? That’s real good, what are they?”

“Jam it by shoving the slide and pushing it up when they fire anyway. Drop out the mag, catch the safety, lots of ways— _mysterious_ ways.” She frowned with a touch of hurt in her voice said, “You don’t really believe that I’m the Wolf. You believe what that idiot’s saying?”

“No, I mean, yes and no… I know he’s wrong, but you’re 15! It _has_ to be exaggerated… It _has_ to…” He watched the wetness in her eyes.

“So I’m _not_ making sub-lethal smoke bombs in a utility closet after picking the locks to our handcuffs. Right. Because I’m 15. I’ll have you know, I didn’t start signing as the Wolf because that nickname didn’t start to stick until I was about 10, my Uncle thought it was hilarious and that’s when it really took off, but even before then… well, I like wolves. They’re smart, they’re athletic, they’re powerful, and most of all, they’re confident in what they can and can’t do, and if you don’t trust me I don’t need you to babysit and get in the way. You’ll get us both killed if you don’t trust _me_.”

Jim looked at the teen. “Actually… you remind me more of that Jonny kid. He’s pulled off some amazing stunts in his own right…” He looked at the floor near the door. “So what’s your plan? Take down 30 some-odd Intelligence One double-agents with a pea-shooter, a pocket-knife, and some bleach?”

“That does seem a touch excessive given the circumstances.” Venus offered, “I can get the information I need without too much direct conflict—I just need to get into the vents and you need to pull the car around. I can work on some attrition while verifying they aren’t holding anyone else, and once I’m satisfied they aren’t, I’ll meet you at the car.”

“…Why bother?” Jim asked incredulously. Venus looked at him like that was a stupid question. He wondered if she was an idealist.

“The Jag might be fast, but Wild Jim, you aren’t losing 30 bogies without weapons, and I really doubt Avis bullet-proofed the windshield. Once we get somewhere safe I can send off the signal to my dad… seriously, this’ll work.” Not seeing the dubious look lift, she reiterated, “Man, Midas—you don’t _really_ think I’m some distressed princess, do you? _We_ stormed the place. _I_ have a plan—a really good one. Not as good as… say… switching out all the road signs in Casablanca to thumb your nose at a guy but it’s still up there.”

That earned her a thin smile which broke way into a more confident one. “Yeah, well, I’m older than you, so I’ve had more time to come up with really awful ways to get my ass handed to me.” He ruffled her hair, horrified when it sloughed off.

With her own smile, Venus pulled the rest of the hair extension out, unclipping her bangs and redoing the coif. “These heels are going to cramp my style real fast, too.” She offered as she kicked them off and broke off the bottoms, “If you run out of ammo, at least you’ll have another means of defense.” She handed him one of the two improv shivs.

“Gee thanks, and I didn’t get _you_ anything…” He jibed as he moved to the door. He tapped the knob and was ecstatic to see it had some give to it. A nod passed between them, Venus quickly set to work assembling a few more surprises. Jim pushed open the door and cleared the hallway, as he tilted back through the doorframe he signaled, “Time to get going.”

With a hoist, Venus was out the door, her tights-cum-sling carrying the pre-assembled units as she watched for overhead vents. She stopped at one and waved Jim over just as two agents turned the opposite corner. Both Jim and Venus put a finger to their lips to hush the other as they listened to the guards make their rounds.

Breaking the moment, Venus thumbed upward toward the vent and gestured for him to give her a boost then cut and run.

Jim gave a nod, laced his fingers into a lattice and put it above his bent knee. Touching his shoulders to keep stable with her hands, her left foot took the offered step, she was on his shoulders. No sooner than she had a grip on the vent screen, she had her knife out working to unscrew the Philip-screws. Within thirty seconds she’d gotten through the four of them and holstered her knife. Fingers around the grate, she listened closely for signs of the guards, not hearing anything she gave a tug.

The clunk sound of the grate shifting made both she and Jim suck in a breath. She handed him the grate and shimmied into narrow opening. Once in, her hand fished out for the grate retrieving it from Jim and slipping it back on loosely.

“Get outta here before they circle back!” She whispered.

In a hushed exchange he replied, “Be careful. If this goes south, you’re in here _alone_.”

“Yeah, but this is home turf, so I’ve got this. I’ll see you in half an hour. If you don’t, well, it’s going south and you should wait longer.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that, but I’ll be waiting _inside_ then.” He spun on his heels and took off down the hall before she could challenge him, he had the feeling she’d argue the point elsewise.

-Cry Wolf-

He wasn’t surprised the XK8 wasn’t where he’d left it, hell, he wasn’t even all that surprised that an unmarked surveillance van replaced it, or that there were two other such gems on that block and the one leading up to it, what _did_ surprise Wild Jim was that Race was leaning against one of those said cars and doing his damnedest to look inconspicuous and failing magnificently.

That splendidly sore thumb was a sight for his old eyes!

He scanned the perimeter as he made with hasty feet the journey toward his old pal. Just as he was about to bump into the man; a woman shoulder-checked him and tackled him into the newly opened side-door to the van.

Wild Jim locked eyes on familiar brown orbs only for those to be replaced by a rapidly flying fist.

“Hey! What was _that_ for baby-doll? Did they exaggerate when they said you weren’t still mad?” He grinned charismatically at the furious rail of a woman.

A scruff hand pulled him by the lapel into a heated kiss to the low whistles of astonished amazement of the fellow passengers of the van.

“Boys, don’t look,” came the familiar voice of Dr. Quest. Race’s frame boxed out the open door and hopped into the van.

“I don’t see Venus street-side, you going to tell me where she is, Wild Jim?”

De seemed intent to let him up for air, though he still looked like he was out in the exosphere as he stared at her longingly. “…Hey Race, it’s been a while.” He looked around the van and spotted Race’s familiars, plus his old _friend_.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to fill us in on how you got involved in this, are you?” Race crossed his arms. “Any of this…”

“Ah, well, we’ve got _some_ time to kill if you really want. The Wolf’s in there laying track-work.”

“ _The_ Wolf? Don’t tell me you’re still going on about that urban legend!” Race eyed Benton then De before glancing between the boys, his daughter was in the other van across the street working on establishing a link to the security system in the building two blocks away.

De gave the man a sour look, “Track-work?”

Jim shrugged, “She said she wanted to make sure we were the only friendlies. What happened to the Jaguar?”

“The Director liberated it on his way back—De’s Taxi at your service.” She shrugged toward the Quests, “Ride-share only.”

“Hey Wild Jim! It’s been a while.” Jonny smiled with a wave, he nudged Hadji to pull him from his laptop to also greet the man.

“Jonny! Hadji! Look at you two, growing up like _weeds_ … I remember when you were yay tall and snatchin’ my pistol off me!” He ruffled Jonny’s hair fondly, Jim froze as he pushed Jonny’s bangs back.

“I take it by your reaction you’ve met my sister?” Jonny smiled lopsidedly. “Dad says we’re sesquizygotic twins.”

Floundering for his own recovery, Jim just ruffled his hair again. “And you insisted the Wolf didn’t exist! Damn it, Race, that’s the kid’s _sister_.”

Race crossed his arms, “That’s bunk! Some of those stories are 10 years old!”

De scratched the tip of her nose, “Some of those we sat on for a good couple of months to hide the trail, too, but Phil’s always been a bragger when he drinks.” The glare that earned her was too rich.

“You mean that one about the bank robbery where the Wolf took down all six perps and diffused a bomb…”

“…Well, technically, she _and_ Darren did that, and she _didn’t_ diffuse a bomb—she detonated it, shot it like a clay pigeon and blew their ride to bits.”

“…And the one about convincing a small army that she had them surrounded with 3 people?”

“She’s good at voice acting and ventriloquism. She’s got weird hobbies, besides, you’ve taken down a baker’s dozen alone before yourself. It’s not _that_ far-fetched.” De defended.

“But the time with the serial killer—”

Jonny chimed on that one, “Oh! She told me about that—she was at the rehab center and Agent Korvin was trying to desensitize her to field work again.”

Race groaned, “You’re _kidding_ me…?”

“…Phil’s men were in position in case it went south, but she scared the absolute piss out of the little rat, and when she walked out the boys were wolf-whistling and howling at her. That’s how Darren knew his brother was blabbing about her nickname the Wolf, that’s been… almost 5 years, wow time flies. Of which, how much time did she ask for, Loose Cannon?”

Jim smiled at the woman dreamily. His arms instinctively curved around her and happily noted she didn’t seem too unpleased because if she _had_ , he’d have known with a couple well-placed kidney-punches. “She asked for 30 minutes on the clock about twenty minutes ago.”

Race touched his earpiece, “Jess, how’re comms coming?”

“Almost got it, dad!” Jessie called back through her transmitter. The sounds of rapid key-strokes were met with a cry of success, “We’re in!”

“Alright, good work Panchita, Hadji, you’re on…” Race cued. Jonny leaned over his brother’s shoulders to scan read behind him and check the footage with him.

“Huh? That’s weird! Where is she?” Jonny asked.

“The vents, I reckon they don’t have cameras in _those_.” Jim offered.

De laughed, “If they did, she disabled them first.”

“Woah! What’s that smoke?” Jonny called back, pointing as Hadji typed away furiously to toggle angles.

Benton looked over his shoulder, “That _looks like_ a smoke bomb…”

“Well, if she’s on to the _fireworks_ already, she must be ahead of schedule.” Wild Jim offered, “They locked us into a janitor’s closet. She fixed herself up some neat toys.”

The sound of a boom rocked the side of the van, Jonny dove out of the vehicle and raced half the block to get to a straight shot to see the building directly while Hadji cued the next set of cameras to pull an internal view of the building. He had three cameras with billowing smoke and flames by time Jonny counted up to the tenth floor where half the floor was pluming black smoke from the blown out windows.

“Get inside!” Race called back, his daughter seemed to know where he was going with that as she pulled her impetuous friend back into her van and out of view.

“And _that_ puts her really ahead of schedule.” Jim crossed his arms. “I didn’t think she was going to _use_ that one! Come on Race, time to meet her in the lobby.”

“Hold on. I have almost completed the count of personnel… there are—10 remaining agents. Seventeen agents are down.”

“Where are the ten that are still moving?” Race called back into the van, pulling out some heavy-duty artillery.

“They are converging on the first floor.” Hadji responded evenly.

“It must’ve been something she said.” Race offered; he handed Wild Jim a pistol and two magazines of ammo. He watched as Benton also pulled out his own piece. “Doc, you probably should stick here with Hadji.”

De looked between the men and drew her own piece, “You boys do understand cars are capable of relocating I take it? It’s not that advanced a concept. Dr. Quest, care to drive?”

Benton gave an affirmative nod before starting the van and pulling into the street. “Race, tell Jonny and Jessie to stay _put_.”

“I can say it, but you know as well as I do that they won’t.” As if to demonstrate the point, the van cattycorner to theirs was already half-way down the street headed toward the smoldering HQ.

-Cry Wolf-

Darren crossed his arms as he continued his fixed glare at his older brother.

“What the hell do you mean _no_?”

Phil shrugged his hands in consternation. “This is _your_ fight, Darren. I’m on vacation, I recall you telling me to _go_ on that vacation and that you could handle it.”

The eye-roll was almost audible, “Damn it, Phil, do you _hear_ yourself? These assholes have my _kid_ …”

“…Seems more like the other way around from how you just told it.” He crossed his arms and leaned back into the wall of his expansive living room. “If I go in and pull your ass off the fire it’s career suicide for you.”

“Like hell it is, I don’t _want_ your job…”

“Well you should’ve thought about that before volunteering for it for half a year. You’ve got to eat the clock on it. But hey! Now you know who’s hungry.”

With a growl Darren leaned forward, “This is about that bullshit between you and me about Allen, isn’t this?”

Phil shook his head, “No, it’s not. That’s a very different matter from this. I can’t let you make that big of a mistake by giving them the _appearance_ of weakness. You’ve got to come down _hard_ on them, and I can help you with that, but I can’t do it by showing up for you. You’re not 8 anymore and you haven’t just gotten your ass handed to you by three 16 year olds. This is manageable, you’re just too frazzled to have realized it yet.”

He shook his head. “So you’re wasting my time now…”

“Not at all, you want to pay Klein back for the indignation, I get that, but I’m surprised you’re not thinking this through, he’s a grey-hat. Most of my men are because this isn’t the black-and-white clear-cut sugary shit you deal with at Alpha. The world’s messy, it’s complicated, and they get their shit done. I will give you this was a bit of an over-step from them, and as such you really should get some pay-back, but the way you hit these assholes is in politics. My niece figured that out pretty well, she didn’t even kill any of them?”

“…Not yet at least,” he concurred. “But sure as shit she pissed off all the fragile male egos at the brunch.”

Phil chuckled, “She’s a natural, it’s funny to think how she’s related to Dr. Quest.”

“Why? Do you think he’d piss off more or less of them?” Darren posed.

“More, and more eloquently, but he’d still convince the schmucks to follow his plan in a pinch. It’s not about keeping the suits happy, Darren. It’s about getting things _done_ and them being happy about _that_ instead.”

“Yeah, yeah… so you won’t come back until your vacation’s over. Then what do you propose I do to pay these assholes back and get my daughter back?”

“You should just go to DC as scheduled and let them implode on themselves, I have on good authority that the Wolf is making an appearance. It’s a shame that I’ll miss first-hand regales from this one.”

“Damn it, there’s over 30 of them and only 1 of her…” Darren wiped a hand down his face. “They’re threatening her.”

“Well, that’s a crime, and you can have them arrested for it if you want. Or, she can mop the floors with them and then you can walk right back in there on Monday with your allies and make it clear who actually has the power. I can promise you there’s far more than 30 nay-sayers, and a hell of a lot more loyal to your leadership. Lean in, now get your ass to DC and call me if you actually need real advice.”

“I swear to god, you’re worse than De with ‘motivational speeches’. She just wants me back to Alpha-1 so she can take a break.”

-Cry Wolf-

Through the thinly spaced slats of the vents, Venus watched a small group of agents check over their weapons, the transmission had been disheartening; they only had a five minute head-start. No matter, it was plenty of time.

“I’m going to kill that little bitch…” Muttered the buddy she’d made earlier, an ace-bandage tinted red from over his pant-leg.

She could see some affirming head-bobs of his peers, in a whisper to herself she scoffed, “Good luck with that…” With that in mind, she pulled out one of the smoke-bombs she’d assembled and began to shake it vigorously before loosening the cap and rolling it down the vents. Hastily, she worked her way around the bend and then some. At the next vent opening, she kicked out the screen and slipped down.

The sound of fabric ripping only added to her own frustration as she glared at the past-ruined dress. Venus tucked into the nearby office.

“…Well hello there.” She said in a resonating bravado, the scene before her hadn’t been one she’d particularly thought she’d stumble upon. The men she’d shot before were still _there_ , and by the looks of it none-the-better for the wear. With a fast step she approached one with a slow leaking shoulder caked in sweat and an unnatural shade of grey over his visage.

Looking around, she saw several photos on the desk. She knew who’s office this was—Brenda, that gloriously functional alcoholic… She did a two-step shuffle to dig into her bottom drawer and pull out a mostly full bottle of whisky and a grooming kit. Assuming that was the best she was going to get, she brought over her newly acquired goodies to the down agent and prodded his opposite shoulder.

In a grimace, the man opened his eyes and gave her a weak glare. “What’re you doing here…?”

“Saving your life, assuming you want that. Why the hell didn’t they take you in?” Venus offered.

“And tip our hand? No way…”

“So you’re all that there is, huh? At least in the area,” She reasoned.

The man looked away.

“Don’t be like that! I’m not pumping you for information, I already surmised as much. I want to help stabilize you, you’ve lost more blood than I’d like. You guys really were idiots about this whole thing.” She reproached, “And I’m not about to go on the record as the _youngest_ Director in Intelligence One history _and_ the bloodiest.”

“Why bother?” The man shifted, clearly not trusting her.

She smiled as she poured the whisky into his shoulder and over the proffered tweezers and her own hands. “Why indeed. Once I get you stabilized, your buddies and you need to go get _real_ medical attention, not superglue and whisky. That’s an order. I don’t care what you tell the hospital staff, but if you don’t do something you’ll die and you probably should value your life at least a _little_. Besides, what good do you do these guys here? You can’t stop me… and if you think my people don’t already know what’s going on… I mean, really there’s just _no_ incentive for you to be here except to die. Is that what you want? Or is that what someone else wants to keep you quiet?”

The look that earned her made her own hackles rise. It was recognition that he _was_ being used, or discarded at most.

“You’re not a pawn. You’re an agent in one of the best agencies in the world. So will you go in? I’d hate to lose good people. I would’ve figured you to be in a vest, you know…”

“I _was_ —it skimmed under.” He offered back, she could see him relaxing.

“What’s your name?” She asked, now eying the wound. She could see the intact bullet where it had hit bone and nestled into his subclavian vein.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” He asked.

She shrugged, “Would you feel better if I told you I was winging it or if I said I’ve done this a hundred times in worse conditions?”

That earned her a smile, “Edison… Lyle Edison.” He leaned his head back into the wall tiredly, then thinking better of it looked at the whisky in longing. “Do you mind…?”

She put the whisky to his mouth and poured off two-shots worth then pulled it back. “Any more and your blood might get too thin on me, Lyle.”

“Fuck it. I hope you’re winging it… you really are the Wolf?” He asked, “If you’re her you can do anything.”

“Oh hardly, surviving immolation just seems excessive.” She winked, “Lyle, try not to scream. It’ll blow my spot and that would be bad for both of us.”

She waited for him to nod then dug her fingers into the wound, she pinched down on the vein and used the tweezers to work the bullet up. Within moments, she had it loose and was working to superglue closed the tear in the vein.

In all, her impromptu patch had eaten 15 minutes and she knew the others would be checking the floor soon. She retracted her fingers and poured more whisky over the opening for good measure before looking at the other ashen faces in the room. Focusing on the least ashen of the three remaining men, she walked over and toed his knee.

“Hey... I know you’ve been listening in. Hey, wake up.” She kicked him a bit more earnestly, that made him seem to come around. “If you don’t want your friend there to die, the four of you should make your way to the ground floor and take a field-trip to the ER. If you stay here he’ll definitely die, and I don’t think Lyle’s cool with dying for nothing.”

The man blinked at her. “He knew the risks when signing up to be an agent.”

Venus laughed, “…No one signs up to die over office politics, idiot. Sure, in some glorified hole in the wall across the globe, yeah, we’re aware of the risks. That’s like arguing that people who choke to death on ham sandwiches signed up for the risk. Anyhow, get your asses out of here. Now.” She added impatiently.

Instead of watching them scramble, she headed back through the door with her gear in hand. Now seemed as good as a time as any to leave; making a fast track through the hall, she found the entrance to one of the stairwells that would take her back to street-level.

The sound of a hammer clicking back on a handgun made her give pause.

“…Oh Stark, you’re still here?” She asked, “And here I thought your cologne just lingered that long…” She offered as she turned around slowly.

A strike to her already sore nose punctuated the authentic greeting. “Who said you had permission to leave?”

With an authentic smile, she looked at him, “I did.”

He edged her out of the periphery of the camera. Venus looked up at the device as if reading his intent. “The evidence of your crimes aren’t going to just disappear!” He offered, the double meaning clear.

She pointed up to the wire, he gave a slight nod.

Drawing and throwing her knife with precision, she connected with the wire and shorted the camera out. “How much evidence do you have on Klein? He’s not the _only_ one…”

“I know he isn’t, but he’s the highest ranking. Who ordered those men to stay there?”

Stark shook his head, “Above me, I’m afraid.”

Venus pulled out the cigarettes from her purse, “Want one?”

He laughed, “My cologne isn’t _that_ bad.”

“Oh it’s fucking awful and that’s even _with_ my nose all clogged up. You’re a real asshole hitting me in the face like that.”

“Well, I still do think you’re a bitch, Director Wolf.” He smiled as he took up the offered smoke. Venus took one for herself. “I’ve gotten the data… including what Darren asked for.”

“Good.”

“Not really, most of those were hard-copies. They’ll _know_ what’s missing.”

“Oh will they? I have a way to fix that, just point me to where that information was being housed.” Venus offered, drawing in the cigarette smoke to calm her nerves. That she still had blood on her hands quite literally had her nerves shot to shit.

“The AD’s office had a trove of data. Fold-and-Dry indeed! How did you know _I_ was the inside-guy?”

Venus shrugged, “I bluffed my way into it. It usually works or I get dumb looks and I try something else.” She ground out the cigarette after taking another few drags. “Okay, I want you to work on a good reason to evacuate your people, they aren’t on that floor, are they?”

“I’d say that gas of yours is a good trick. Do you have another like that? Put it on the 7th floor, and then do what you need to on the 10th one, then get the hell out of here. You think you can keep alive? There’re a few surveillance vans doing their damnedest to stick out like sore thumbs.”

She shrugged, “What about the ones trying to be subtle, are there any of those too?”

“When this is said and done, you’ll need to tell me how you got the high-and-mighty Benton Quest into your corner, Ms. Korvin.”

Her eyes narrowed as he pierced her with a snarky sneer.

“Oh right, you don’t go by _that_ last name, do you?” He took out his pistol and shot it several times up the ascending staircase. “Better run along now.”

With a thin nod, she took up a brisk run to the 10th floor and made her way to Admiral Klein’s office. Inside, she looked through the filing cabinets in a cursory check before setting the improvised explosive near the window, venting it open to provide fuel and blast out any extra materials, she put some kindling materials nearby before lighting up the last cigarette. Using it as the ignition source, she edged back toward the door and flicked the butt into the accelerant. The blast-wave sent her into the secretary’s desk from the doorframe. The solid hip-check made her let out a stifling groan of discomfort as she made her way back toward the stairwell and down to the seventh floor to set off another smoke-bomb before heading on her merry way.

By time she’d reached the fifth floor on her way down the stairs, the wailing blue-light alarms indicated that she’d successfully set fire to the office. That was an accomplishment. With an eye-roll, she kept her pace down the stairs; the activated sprinkler-system was quickly making her water-logged.

While making her run down the stairs, she had time to take stock in just how awful she looked. In a word—two actually, drowned-cat conjured the image. Her bruised and bloody nose that she _hoped_ was only bruised, her destroyed dress, run-ragged soiled tights, and wrecked hair, smeared makeup with bonus points for the elbow-deep blood stains on her hands, tickle of tobacco and strong perfume of whisky, and cheap cologne hanging over her wet visage, she looked a hot mess. The only plus side to this was that her dad would likely not be the one picking her up, but of course, from what Stark just relayed it seemed like an even Worse-Case-Scenario emerged—her ride would come in the form of the Quests.

Knowing how Jessie was, she’d never live it down. Pausing at the second floor, she debated the merits of going right back upstairs to wait for the firefighters instead when the door to the stairwell opened a floor below.

Focusing on that, she dove to the wall, pressing flat to it to minimize the target she presented.

“Kid! You around here?!”

Venus blinked at the unfamiliar term, “…Wild Jim? What the hell! I was supposed to have 30 minutes!”

The laugh that elicited made her chilled body feel slightly warmer. “Well, you’re late if you aren’t 15 minutes early… any good agent knows _that_.”

That earned him a full belly laugh from the teen followed by a wince. “…You know what, yeah. You got me on that technicality.” She shuffled off the wall and toward the stairs. She paused as he came into view.

“Holy shit you look like you’re having a rough day.”

She pulled at the hem of her shredded dress, “If I made it look too easy then they’d think I was slacking off…” Her foot skidded across the puddle on the bottom-most step. Jim grabbed her shoulder to keep her from clocking her head on the way backward.

“Yeah, yeah, no falling head over heels on me _now_ ,” He smirked as she rolled her eyes at him, her turn to blush from the save. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks. How many of our friends have made it down to the lobby?”

“So far Race and De have been taking care of them, they looked to be at a baker’s dozen when I headed for the steps.”

“There’s another baker’s dozen left, then. Think we can cut out early though? I need to make a few calls.”

“Yeah, this party has gone longer than I thought it would for a brunch.”

-Cry Wolf-

Inside the reconsolidated white van, a brown sports-coat over her shoulders, Venus stared at Dr. Quest’s finger as he directed it left then right, his penlight hitting her in the pupils and reflecting off the black there.

She palmed the hot tea they’d sourced from _somewhere_ , “Have you gotten in touch with dad yet?”

“Focus on this first, scout.” Benton corrected instead of letting her divert attention to her next objective.

“With all due respect, pops, I can’t really do that. Thanks for lending me your jacket… I’ll get it dry-cleaned right away…”

“Don’t worry about _that_ right now.” He tilted her head up as he probed the swollen tissue around her nose.

“TCH! Ow! That hurts you know!” She muttered as she pulled her head back.

“I’m sure it does. I’ve been worked over like that a few times myself.” He offered in kind, he probed it again anyway. Realizing she had to suffer the indignity, she closed her eyes and let it roll over her.

“…I feel dizzy.”

“It’s not broken, but that swelling is pronounced. Care to tell me why you reek of alcohol and cigarette smoke?”

She smirked triumphantly, “Mysterious ways of women, I’m afraid.”

“Try again.” He said in deadpan. Her cerulean eyes flicked over to Jonny in the front seat who, himself, was giving her a worried look.

“So I had to perform an emergency surgery on a guy’s nicked right subclavian vein! It’s not _that_ big of a deal… though I’m sure they’ll _make_ it into one. Just another part of my legume I suspect.”

“You mean your legend?” Dr. Quest’s voice lilted, “That Wolf of Intelligence One…?”

“And of Alpha One, but usually, they just call me _the_ Wolf, not the Wolf _of_ anything.” She leaned back, “So, that’s what I do… um, I still need to file my reports so the world doesn’t go to hell in a hand-basket and dad figures out who our inside guy is… and besides, he’ll want to know I’m okra.”

The look that passed between Race and Dr. Quest made her blink at them. Race whispered to him just above perceptible, “Does she have a concussion?”

He shrugged a single nod, “That’s what I’d surmise.”

“I don’t have a percussion, it’s been a long day. Why would you even think that? It’s just a bloody nose. Now really, I _must_ insist that _someone_ lend me a phone so I can check in with dad before he gets into a tizzy.”

“Do you remember getting hit in the head?” Benton asked, pushing her head back again.

“Yes. Several times in fact today, but really I don’t have the _time_ for a concussion so this is just an unnecessary exorcism on your behalf…”

“Exorcism?” Jonny asked as he looked at his dad.

“Exercise.” Venus clarified, “Where is De anyway? And Loose Cannon? Don’t tell me they couldn’t wait to rekindle their old flame… that’d be unprofessional of them.”

“Old flame?” Race’s voice rose, “Wild Jim and De were a _thing_? Or were they a fling?”

Venus nodded and bit back a wince, “Yeah. They were going to elope up until he jilted her at the altar… it was a big _thing_ about… oh, 10 years ago. Then he started taking work all over Europe and Asia, and when that got old, South America until you both reconnected and I had to help him out of the hot-water when I was already in a pissy mood. I respectfully axed him to rejoin Intelligence One and save me the paperwork and he’s been doing that for the last five years. It’s nice, it cut down my reports by 300%. That Cannon & Bannon bolshevist kept me busy.”

“Bannon and Cannon, and when did you ever write a report on _my_ behalf?!” Race blinked.

“Cannon and Bannon, actually… it’s a limited liability company, he filed it, name and all, and he kept it up. He’s got some business savvy to him, which is more than I can say for you. And I never had to write reports for you; you had other people willing to go to bat for you, which is good because you get into way more international incidents than I have time for. Though, in your defendants you keep property damage down a lot better.”

Benton coughed into his fist.

“But I’ve seen the bills you’ve run up for mercenaries and I’m _not_ envious of anyone writing those budgetary justification memos to file. You’re both lucky you’re so _lichen_.”

“…Lichen?” Jonny parroted.

“Likeable.” Benton called back, “Venus, you’re mixing words. You’re going to need a full evaluation with a neurologist and a CT scan.”

“No, I’m find.” She smiled confidently, “I need to get brick to work. I’ve got imported work.”

She turned as the door to the van opened; De gave the teen a once-over while she kept a cellphone pinned to her ear. “Dr. Quest, what’s the verdict, does she need to go in?”

Simultaneously, Venus called, “No, I’m grade.”

And Dr. Quest called, “Yes, she needs a full work-up.”

Puffing her cheeks, Venus glared at him then spun to give De a defiant look as she said pointedly, “I don’t, De! I’m fit as a spindle! As acting interim director…”

“Brat, if you’re about to try to _order_ me around you’d better reevaluate your deductive reasoning skills because if you _don’t_ have a concussion—you’re about to.”

Her finger wilted from the point. “But I need to get in touch with dad, De!”

She rolled her eyes as she continued her phone conversation, “Shit, she _did_ take a header. Yeah, we’ll take her in. Probably a good idea to take her out of the area first though, yeah, I’ll keep you posted. You want to talk to her? Alright, here you go.”

A phone pressed into Venus’s cheek as she maneuvered her hand over De’s to adjust it, “Uh… hello?”

“That was reckless.”

Venus smiled, “Dad! Where are you? Are you in DC already? How’s Uncle Phil? Is he combing back? Stark has copies of the files Klein was trying to bury…” She nodded, “Uh huh, yeah… yeah… ohhhh, he’s mad isn’t he?”

De shook her head in growing annoyance before snapping the phone back, “Damn it I _knew_ he’d flake out. Darren, you’re a walking FEMA grade disaster. Just _once_ I’d like to have a _reasonable_ work load you pain in my ass!”

As the Quest Team blinked at her, Venus only offered another pout, “…I was still _talking_ to him…” She grumbled as the glare turned on her.

De pointed at her fiercely, “You and I are going to have our _own_ private little discussion, brat, don’t you _worry_ about that!”

She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Oh come on! You can’t bin _that_ mad at me… Besides, it’s not like it’s _my_ fault you’re in a bat mood.”

Benton clapped a hand over Venus’s shoulders, “You need to get buckled in. Jonny?”

“Yes dad?” Jonny smiled with practiced pacifism, the same look his brother had when he got roped into peace-keeping.

“Sit with your sister and keep her from dozing off, just in case.”

“Yes sir.” He smiled wider, “Come on, sis, where do you want to sit?”

“…Won’t this jet cramped with all of us? That’s…” she counted off, “Eight people.”

“Six. Wild Jim and I have actual fires to put out now thanks to you.” De crossed her arms. “Dr. Quest, call that number I gave you to let me know which hospital you check her into, would you? We’ll coordinate where to have her stay for the night.” She smiled politely then turned a full-heated glare on the blond girl, “And then _you and_ _I_ will have that conversation.”

Venus gulped.

She flinched when Jonny pulled her toward the back set of seats, “Come on, sit in the back with me, Hadji and Jess can sit in the middle, right guys?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Jessie smiled, “We don’t need to be in the smoking section.”

-Cry Wolf-

Stiffly, Venus struggled to don a pullover hoodie without jarring her swollen nose as she waited bench-side for the doctors to address her. She’d already _been_ waiting for several minutes and was starting to doubt their intentions to actually talk to _her_.

A familiar shade of blond poked through the doorway as Jonny slid in and sat in a nearby chair, “Hey sis, whatcha doing?”

“Nothing mulch.” She shrugged, “When’s the attending going to come back in here, anyway?”

Jonny shrugged, “Dad’s talking with the doctors now.” He watched her face sour.

“And why are they doing _that_? He doesn’t have my medical grant of ornithology.” She crossed her arms, “He has no legal ground.”

“Sis, you have a concussion. Dad’s called Darren and he’s on board…”

Eyes narrowed to slits, “If he has all _that_ time for phone cats he could at least talk to _me_ for more than two minuets.”

“It’s getting worse.” He cocked his head toward her and caught her eyes, “How _is_ your head?”

With a frown she diverted her eyes, “I’ve had a conclusion before. So what if I have one ride now, I can still do what I knee to for work.”

“And what’s that?” He asked.

“To dredge up the full cast of conspirators, and play the penultimate counter.”

“I don’t even understand what you were trying to say there. You want to go after them?”

“Yes! And prosecute the thread to the fullest lever, obviously!”

“Right… because you’re in the condition to do that.” His eyebrow rose thoughtfully as her cheeks flushed rouge. “Seems more like playing into their hands rushing in gung-ho and woefully underprepared, it makes _you_ look immature and incapable whereas consulting with your team…” he hinted.

“You’re giving me a headache.” She growled. “And you’re making assumptions as to what my brioche is! Give mink more credit than that.”

She grabbed the bag of clothes with her name on it and pulled out the socks and sneakers, her lip curled into an unhappy grimace as she leaned over to put them on. The throb there was starting to make her dizzy again.

Jonny looked over at the door at Jessie and Hadji as they kept a look-out. He dragged a hand down his face, “Right, so what’s _your_ approach?”

“I talk to dad and gift him the briefing he needs, then I talk to our people and pull the fronds to really hit home to our buddies that we can fuck them better than they can fuck us and we know just wary to aim.” She folded her arms as they looked between themselves. “What! It’s _tactical maneuvering_ , it’s mine forte.”

“Jonny, the neurologist is coming over.” Jessie called over, “Looks like Dr. Quest is with him.”

“Okay, sis, we’ll be right back.” He put his hand on her shoulder, “We’ll help you get in touch with Darren.”

“…Why are you hovering around here anyway, is it to kelp me or tarp me for De?” She didn’t know how to take the disarming smile Jonny _or_ Jessie shot her for that matter.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes.” Jessie offered as she waved the boys back into the hallway.

“…Gourd duty, huh?” Venus asked rhetorically. The neurologist came in with a chart, Dr. Quest behind him.

“Ah, good evening Miss Quest.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at Dr. Quest. The way he suggestively flexed his eyebrows and opened his eyes wider told her to just play along.

With an eye-roll, she crossed her arms. “Call me Venus.”

“Excellent, my name is Dr. Wald.” He flipped over the charts and looked at his own notes, “I’d like to talk with you for a few minutes and examine you.”

“Uh-huh, I already hat a CT scan and MRI, what necks? A balance assortment?”

“Something like that, you have a concussion, that’s to say you’ve bruised your brain, and that bruise is over Broca’s area which is causing you to misuse words.”

Venus rolled her eyes, “Is the demand permanent?”

He smiled. “Not likely, but with all concussions, the best treatment is rest.”

“Yeah? What’s the second fest treatment?”

“There isn’t a second treatment option. You need to rest.”

“You skipped the whole neurological exam pantry.” She crossed her arms, “You didn’t chess my balance, my recall, or anything else and now you’re making silly demolitions about me?”

Benton put a hand on her shoulder, “Those were done in field, Dr. Wald wants to keep you in the hospital overnight for observation, and then tomorrow we’ll take you back home.”

“…I don’t remote that. And I refuse. I have the right to refuse spearmint.”

“Actually, you aren’t medically emancipated, so you don’t. You’d require parental consent to refuse, and as it is, you don’t have that.” Benton offered, “It’s also not negotiable.”

“Did De putt you up to this?” She scowled, suddenly turning her dirty look onto the teens in the hall, “Trackers!”

“They aren’t traitors, they’re keeping watch per my instruction while Race makes some calls, so we’re going to get you set upstairs and tomorrow we’ll head home, scout.”

Venus gave the neurologist a dirty look then a pointed one back to Benton, “There’s serious logistics to constellation. Did you oven think about secretary? Transposition?”

“You need to stop thinking about it and start relaxing. Change into your pajamas.” He watched her puff her cheeks in a glower in time to see a familiar woman in the doorway and three teens scurry from her path.

“De! Abound tile, you need to talk sends into him! They want me to stray hair over-night.”

The woman’s lip curled into a snarl, “Tell me she at least understands us better than we understand _her_?” She asked as she locked eyes on the two other adults in the room.

“Oh yes, she comprehends, she has a concussion over her Broca’s area, it impacts her ability to form sentences, though her short-term memory also seems impacted marginally.”

“Oh _great_ , so what I tell her won’t _stick_ …” She glared at the blond who reflexively flinched at the danger.

Benton coughed into his fist, “Dr. Wald, my associate can help Venus along into her pajamas, let’s leave them to it.”

“Alright, I’ll have the nurses put together the administration paperwork for you.” He shook Benton’s hand and headed out, the redhead gave a sideward glance to the remaining two people in the room.

“De, she’s under strict orders to rest. Maybe you’ll have better luck conveying that.” He smiled peaceably before slipping out into the hallway and closing the door with a deafening finality.

Venus swallowed back a gulp now cornered with the lean, over-tired woman.

De plucked the bag of clothes from her hands in a fast tug and fished around in it until she found a pajama top and mismatching pajama bottom. “Put those on. Now, brat.”

“Uh, is there… um, neighbor a set in there?” She cringed, De rolled her eyes and pulled out another article of clothes that seemed to match at least one of the two items and traded it.

“Any more arguments?”

“No madman.” Venus said in earnest, unsure of why De was giving her a death-stare. “You can’t steel be upset! It’s bean oval 10 years!”

“Get. Changed.” De fumed, “Ugh, I usually need a translator with you _anyway_ and now it’s even worse…” she muttered to herself.

Venus obliged rapidly, doffing the jeans she’d pulled on only to replace them with fuzzy flannel pajama bottoms and then switched out her pull-over for the button-up top, leaving the t-shirt under it. Neatly folding the clothes and replacing the sneakers into the bag she looked at De expectantly. “…Weld?”

De rang her hands in the air.

“Sit down, brat.”

Again obliging dutifully, the teen sat back on the gurney, her eyes measuring De’s face constantly.

“You take _way_ too many risks, you know that?” She pointed sharply at the girl.

“No, I tank just enough.” Venus said sincerely, she grimaced when De grabbed her collar. “You shouldn’t box mink ear, I’m told I have a percussion…” She tilted her head to the side slightly to lock eyes with De.

“I’m not going to hit you, you idiot.” She pulled the teen forward into a hug. Venus’s hands bristled at her sides in the rare show of affection from De.

Honestly, she couldn’t readily remember De ever _hugging_ her. Ever-ever.

“Shit, I really do half a concussion…” Venus breathed.

“Oh can it, brat. Those were some real stones you showed in there. And you saved that one idiot’s life…”

“…Uh, which idiot madman?”

“Stop trying to call me ma’am.” De hissed, “Which indeed, we have a few to pick from today don’t we! First there’s your pen-pal… I swear to fuck, you’re killing me. You and your dad… both of you…” She ruffled the blond’s bangs only to blink in shock at the teen’s wince. “Shit! You okay?”

“…Uh, yeah… I thing sole.” She kept watching De’s face, unnerved.

“…Then there’s your dumbass dad getting ambushed like a _rookie_ … and _then_ there’s the dumbass that you played operation on… you got the wishbone and no zaps by the looks of it.” She smiled sardonically. “Then you even got in contact with _Stark_ …”

“Water about Wild Jim, De?” Venus pouted. “Armadillo mad abound that?”

“I’m… seriously what the fuck are you saying? Have you tried writing things down, is that scrambled to shit too?” De seethed, “I’m pissed you kept that from me for a _decade_ … you’re _almost_ as bad as Darren is about compartmentalization! But I’ll have you know I sniffed out that trick five years ago and was just waiting for you to come clean about it, I found out after Pete and I were a thing. It probably saved your damn life.” She said with a point, tapping her finger aggressively into Venus’s chest, then hugged her again.

“Dune you half a pen?”

De pulled out her phone and opened a text message field, “Type it.”

Venus nodded and began quickly cycling through the keypad on De’s blackberry.

‘Are you two getting back together? I didn’t think you’d _want_ to hear from him, you were hurt about what happened. You aren’t always forgiving about those kinds of things.’

“Ugh, always a brat…” De leaned back, “We’re talking. We’ll see what it means, but he _did_ explain the situation and apologized profusely.”

Venus took the phone back and typed some more, ‘He’s a good kisser that’s easy enough to forgive.’

“How the _hell_ do you know what kind of kisser _he_ is?!”

Venus paled, she probably _shouldn’t_ have said that. “My earring— I wash tasing him.”

“…” De crossed her arms, “You were being a flirt to fuck with him, weren’t you?”

The smarmy smirk she shot back in defiance made De shoot her a similar smile, “He assumed I was dad’s mistress. He desalinated that.”

“Because you were in a double?” Venus nodded to De’s question. “Alright, so Stark is our in-guy, and Klein’s our big fish… any smaller fish?”

Venus nodded, “Thirsty or so in tea Boston arena.”

“You’re in rough shape.” De nudged her shoulder, “Want me to tell you a secret? Your dad’ll be _pissed_ …”

With a wide grin Venus nodded slowly.

“…I saw no less than _three_ grey hairs on him when I was patching his schnozz.”

“No!” Venus’s mouth formed a large o in shock, she giggled. “Did he scream them?”

She shook her head, “He didn’t see them yet. They’ll be gone as soon as he does, he’ll pluck them. They were by his hairline a third over from his natural part.”

“Awl, he’ll know before I cane get a photo.”

“But not before _I_ can.” De winked. “You did good work. _Legendary_ work. Not to say I’m _proud_ of you… I can’t play favorites as you know.”

“Can’t play favorites when I _am_ your favorite,” Venus gave an angelic, coy expression. “Besides, I’m a brat.”

“You are.” De put her hand on her shoulder, “And you take too many risks. I’ve gotta get back into this shit-storm, but I’ll check on you later. Listen to the doctors’ orders and _rest_.”

“Yes’m.”

De patted her cheek with a light slap then headed for the door pausing. “No one knows you’re here except Bennett. If you see _anyone else_ …”

Venus nodded in understanding, “Thanks. And De…?”

“Yeah brat?”

“…Are you going tune tell me how you knew?”

De Halloway cackled, a trademark of hers. “Are you really pushing your shitty luck like _that_?”

“Uncle Phil told you, ditto he?” Venus challenged.

“Who the fuck knows! You don’t, that’s for sure, and I don’t owe you an explanation, you never gave _me_ one.”

“Yeah, kale, you’re always _armed_.”

“Rest or I’ll shoot you myself. I’m living vicariously through you.” She shot a loose finger-twirl wave.

-Cry Wolf-

ADs Bennett, Stephenson, and Wesley sat in a small conference before Darren, several dossiers laid out in front of them.

“Are you sure this is how you want to handle this, Director Korvin?” Bennett asked in an even tone.

“I _am_.” He smiled, the bruising though masked with cosmetics still stung for the motion, “Stephenson, you tracked down those ops I wasn’t _thrilled_ with I take it? I’m going to need you to reprioritize those assets before the meeting.”

“All ten, sir?” AD Stephenson asked casually while leafing through the material to pull the contact information, “Two of them are nearing completion.”

“All ten,” He smiled toothily.

“Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll do that now.” The man gave a head-bob and ducked away from the table.

“Wesley?”

“Yes sir, Director Korvin?” The younger of the three ADs looked up from his files. “The requested files…” he slid a set over.

“Have you successfully transferred the assets?”

“Yes sir, and I also posted the inquiry with our internal auditors, these are the preliminary reports— _very_ preliminary.”

“Ho-ho… I have one more thing I want you to follow up on, then. Inter-agency wise, see what he’s been blabbing to your mutual friends at the FBI and CIA.”

Wesley nodded.

“Dismissed, thank you.”

“Yes sir.” Wesley stood and gathered up his files before exiting. Once the room had emptied out to Bennett and Darren, the Colonel’s eyebrow raised.

“Going with the classic burn-it-all-to-the-ground approach?”

“Grant had such panache when dealing with civil unrest.” Darren laced his fingers and leaned over, “But really, I want to shake the tree in Wesley’s team to see who’s not doing as asked. Wesley’s a good man, I know that—but some of his _people_ … I want to see who those weak links are.”

“And what about my people?” Bennett adjusted his glasses and smiled.

“Anyone who puts up with you does it for a true love of country because you sure as hell aren’t a picnic.” Darren cracked a more genuine smile, “Did you put together the proposal?”

“I did, personally.”

“Good, so how _was_ the brunch?”

Bennett coughed a laugh, “Well, you know how those go. All things considered your daughter did quite well for herself. She also made poor Stark look like a total buffoon. How _did_ she know Stark was the inside man?”

Darren shrugged, “He signaled it, trying to be overtly derisive when most would go with subtle snubs. Though I will say he was heavy-handed and it pisses me off that he punched her in the _face_.”

Bennett hand-waved, “Oh heaven-forefend, not the _face_ …”

“She has a concussion, I’m allowed to be pissed about that.”

White eyebrows shot up, “I’m still surprised by the approach she took, it helped keep Stark’s cover intact and you both made it out of it alive… from what I’ve gleaned from those initial briefings that’s quite a feat.”

“Yeah well, never play poker with my girl, she can count cards and has one hell of a poker-face.” He tapped out a clove cigarette, “Want one?”

Bennett shook his head as Darren lit the cigarette and drew in a long drag. “Darren, you don’t _owe_ me answers here, but I’d like them regardless. Why the _hell_ did you knowingly walk into that trap without backup?”

“Who said I didn’t _have_ backup? You all but arranged it, and I take it that you now _also_ believe in the Wolf…” He smirked then blew out smoke-rings, he leaned forward onto his hands, cigarette smoke drifting aimlessly upward as he locked eyes. “If I tipped my hand here it would’ve come somewhere else that maybe I could and maybe I couldn’t out-maneuver, and maybe they wouldn’t have played fair that time. We got a tremendous amount of intel on who our weak links are… it’s a pain in the ass, sure, but there was value there.”

Bennett leaned back, “And you got to parade around your daughter and flaunt her skills… was that a dig that it _isn’t_ nepotism?”

Darren’s eyebrows shrugged, “It’s never been nepotism, we’ve just always been the best in place at the time of transitions. Bennett, if Phil really did step down I _wouldn’t_ be the guy jumping in to back-fill. It would be _you_ … but at the same time, Phil isn’t stepping down, he needed to get his house in order and you don’t do that by setting your life on fire. Plus, now that they know what kind of self-righteous asshole _I_ am to work for, they’ll practically throw you a _parade_ when it _is_ your turn.”

“And you _really_ don’t want it?” He crossed his arms sternly.

The booming laugh caught the colonel off-guard. “I am _happy_ to serve my country, and I am _honored_ to take an important post as an Interim Director, but this is _not_ what I want out of life. The distance this has between the actual agents, the _bureaucracy_ in the way of the work—don’t take this the wrong way but _fuck_ _no_ … Respectfully the fuck not, hell, I get why it _has_ to be done that way—I’m a _young_ man and _I_ don’t have the energy to be in all the pies you’d truly need to be in to sustain those closure rates, but it breeds corruption. It _feeds_ off the grey-hats. Call me a purist, but I really do like Alpha’s structure more. Barely any of that, but enough to come through in the clutch as long as you have the flexibility to stomach it…”

“…On the _subject_ of grey hats…?” Bennett baited.

“You want to know what I plan to _do_ with Klein?” Darren’s eyebrow rose as did the corner of his mouth, “I’m not going to throw him on the street, but he’s definitely going to get a spanking for this bullshit. I mean to use your proposal. I didn’t ask you to do it for _nothing_.”

“…You think it’s wise to make such a major change? You’ll only be in this posting another two months.”

Darren shrugged, “The title is Director, Interim is just the duration.” He opened the file and read through it, “Plus I _really_ appreciate how much you took to heart my urge to piss off as many people near the top as you did.” He snubbed the cigarette butt.

“It _would_ be a first—with any of those candidates, sir.”

“I’ve got to ask you, though it’s still weighted in my favor over yours—who’s your _top_ pick?”

“Clarkson, but that’s because it won’t rock the boat insanely, and that’s not your objective. Any of those candidates could do the job and would be fine additions.”

Darren nodded, “Alright, after the Sec Con I’ll formalize the decision. I will say, I like the idea of poking the beehive, the business of hands-off bureaucracy might make sense in the current structure, but I’m _really_ not a fan. I guess the real question is how _much_ of an anarchist I can be while piloting this chair.”

“Not an anarchist, but you do have a rebellious streak.” Bennett reminded, he tapped on his watch, “I have another meet-and-greet before 2, I’ll see you in the meeting sir.”

“Alright, thank you for all your diligent assistance, Colonel.” He gave a half-cocked salute. Once Bennett was out of the room he leaned back into the chair and blew out a slow breath. “Shit, I’m really going to piss off _all_ the suits. I guess that means I’m doing _something right_ after all.”

He shuffled the files and put them into his briefcase before heading to his next meeting.

-Cry Wolf-

In the modest-sized hospital room, Venus eyed the throngs of visitors- the three teenagers working to be as unobtrusively underfoot and the two adults managing to actually not be underfoot… it felt like a fucking submarine with how crowded it was.

“If I’m supposed to be wrestling why the hell am I hosting a formula dinner?” Venus asked after a long moment observing the group.

“We said we’d keep an eye on you.” Benton offered blandly.

“…That’s 9 extra by my court.” She tapped her fingers on the bedrail, “Beehives there isn’t anything to _do_ … can’t I read a noble or listerine to music? _Something_ …”

“Afraid not, scout. Just try to get some sleep, they’re going to wake you up throughout the night.”

Venus rolled her eyes, “A beard game, then? _Anything_ …”

“I do have playing cards, I could show you a magic trick?” Hadji offered.

Blue orbs crackled as they landed on his brown ones. “… _A magic trunk_? You do relief I know exaggerated how you do them, right? Can’t we joust _play_ cards?”

“No way, you count cards.” Jonny offered, “You’re probably worse than dad about it!”

“Now _there’d_ be something to see…” Race offered, “The two of them playing against each other… fuh! That would give _me_ a headache. Venus, how about you tell me how you know Wild Jim?”

The sarcastic smile that curled on her lips made him wonder about what he’d just signed onto, “…Why not…” she shrugged, “Bud only if you don’t yawn at me for all the sordid details.”

Benton and Race looked between themselves, “Sordid details?”

“…De drinks and companies a _lot_ when she’s going throne a breakup.”

“Keep it PG-13.” Race offered, “Can you do that?”

She shirked her shoulders, “I cone try.”

Race pulled up a chair, “So when did you first meet Jim?”

“Mmm… in parsley? Not long after De took oval for you, she dragged me to the air-force to go over the cassette. After that christmas present, I-1 took the international investigation and Alpha-1 got the national end and babysitting doilies. De was pissed about it, she head gotten a log of leads while the USSR collapsed on itself and no one canoe why it even happened… Was it Ana, was it Viktor, was it Sonj… no club except the spook who wouldn’t say. She met up war Wild Jim… he stayed over for a weekend to trade notes.”

“Was that when they started dating?”

“…No, they wool together before that, De was sent in to check Sonj’s angel and Wild Jim was working Ana’s. Viktor’s was suppository.”

“Supposition?” Benton hoped.

“…Yeah.” Venus nodded, “like I said. Well, Chechnya was a burst so Wild Jim went to follow the other ankle since that was the Viktor one… and meet-cute done, they bonked quickly.”

“Bonded?” Race offered. Venus shook her head.

“No, you axed for PG-13. They fucked ride away, De’s like that. She doesn’t like tubing cold in bed. Russia’s cold.” Venus offered innocently, Race’s hand swiped down his face. “When the leads were moving moan internationally and Dmitry was in customs, De went back overseas to find the cells and gang what she could but it was inconclusive. De started on another casket that took her to Afghanistan, and Jim was there too, she probably packed it to be near him. They decibel to elope, but Midas’s Touch is snow joke, he pissed off a local tribal head and got thrown in the stocks en route. De came back thinking he dipped her and went through a nasty breakup face. Dad didn’t think that sounded like Midas though and thought it was a good raisin for me to learn to read Urdu.”

“…At how old?” Race blinked in disbelief.

Venus counted on her hand, “Four. Dad pollen the newspaper clips and released the drug-bust Wild Jim did the week before would’ve pied off some people, we checked that lead, the tribal leader tied into that crowd indirectly… and I wrote a very sincere appleseed letter about how he forgot to axle permission of the esteemed elder… and added in some gold to grease the wheels of justice. He let him go and he went on to play Cannon and Bannon with you, and tell anyone and everyone about why he calls you Race. Over the yeast he’s needed bailing out, and I like him enough to do it and practice my report wreath skills. Plus it was sat how he imploded on himself in self-looting.”

She shrugged, “After he gored in treble in South America, I toad him to get his abs back to I-1 and safe me the paperwork, he was lugging wounds and then took up some freelance perk there, then Uncle Phil led him back into the foal. I did pulley a _few_ strangles there too… so did dad. Dad basal-body gave Uncle Phil a cost-benefit portfolio for our trust and howl expansive it was for us to _not_ ham Jim acting as a federally insured employee.” She laughed into her hand, “I guess dad was annotated about having to wire _his reports_ too… or Uncle Phil was about halfing to rate them at least.” She wiped a tear from her eye as her laughing subsided. She looked at the faces gawking at her.

“Watts?”

Benton cleared his throat, “It’s time for you to try to get some sleep. I phoned in a reservation to the Sheraton nearby, you three kids should head over.”

“Aw, dad!” Jonny shot off faster than his brother could simply agree to. “She’ll get bored if she’s just here with you two…”

“She’ll get _rest_ though.” He crossed his arms, “This isn’t up for debate, now go on.”

Jessie touched Jonny’s shoulder, “Come on Jonny. Dr. Quest, we’ll catch a cab back.” She offered a polite smile as her friend turned his pout toward her.

“Venus, we will be back tomorrow to pick you up.” Hadji said with a wave, Venus’s eyes focused on him slipping a deck of cards into the pocket of her robe.

“Yam, sure… seal you turmeric!” She shot back just as eagerly, her brother’s frown increasing. “Jonny?”

“Yeah, sis?” He asked while hurrying to the bed-side.

“I’m find. Rarely, I just needle risk, I’ll boss back.” She read his eyes while he listened to her, “I’m blanching warts incongruously…?” Her eyes shifted to Race and Dr. Quest, getting her answer she shot out a groan, “I guild hop! Find… argyle alacrity!” She hoisted the blanket and pulled it over her head in an over-exaggerated motion and curled to her side.

-Cry Wolf-

Darren flipped through the stack of papers for the umpteenth time before finally settling the ruffled papers back to a static position.

Fuck it all, he was going the path of most resistance. With a shake of his head he gave a broad smile and shoved his hand across the aisle to shake the proffered hand before him. “Collins, good to see you again! How’re the kids?”

“Oh same, old same old, my youngest just finished up her BA. She’s already started on her MBA while she’s there. How’s _your_ daughter doing? I heard there was a _situation_ …”

He winked, “You know how kids are, if they aren’t giving you grey hairs they don’t know what to do with themselves. What situation did _you_ hear about, Michelle?”

“Plural, on my end, but I was sticking to the latest round on the circuit. Did you know the man she saved is my husband’s god-son?”

“Shit, isn’t in a small world…”

“…And at half bled-to-death the dumbass figured out he was being played as a patsy. I don’t appreciate that at all, as you can imagine.”

Darren nodded, “That I can, which brings us to our business at hand…”

“Out with it, you’re busy and I have to get back to the Pentagon soon.”

“I am trying to, Michelle. Collins, you’ve been working in a support role with the Administration here for a _long_ time. They’ve passed you up for promotions your time-in was due, and I get the feeling I know _why_ that was.”

Michelle laughed, “Anyone who’s spent five minutes with me and a half-empty bottle of tequila knows why, Darren. They don’t like ‘uppity’ women in boys’ clubs.”

“Exactly. _They_ don’t. Me? I don’t mind it as much as I think it’s a refreshing breath of air. To skip the bullshit, it requires travel but you can park your desk in DC, NYC, Seattle—hell, any of the major hubs, it would be a skip-level promotion and it would be Klein’s seat. He’s being demoted one rung to be your subordinate and you should know he’s the one who issued the order for your god son to sit there. He also doesn’t know that relationship and I’d prefer that to stay mums because that seems like excessive needling.”

Michelle’s smile stretched, “And what’s your confidence rating in my ability to do this job?”

He waved his hand away, “Don’t fish for compliments, if you couldn’t do this I wouldn’t be here, but more importantly you can do it and piss off a _lot_ of uptight people _and_ prove it’s not about lineage but skill. I trust your judgment even if we disagree from time to time. The job comes with a 30% bump and puts you around fifth in line of progression within 10 years. You could be the second female Director of Intelligence 1.”

“…Second?” She guffawed.

Darren took a turn smiling wide, “Well, the first one only held it for a day, but she handled it _very well_.”

Michelle shook his hand again, “I accept, thank you for the opportunity, Director _Korvin_.”

“Please, all this stuffy formality, call me Darren, Associate Director Collins.” He glanced at his watch, “Oh look at the time, I have to get to my next meeting. I’ll expect you straight away, at least put in an appearance tomorrow, I suspect you plan to sit in on my one after as well.”

“Absolutely, thank you Darren, I’ll see you there shortly sir.”

He winked though he hardly felt the joy of the gesture in the underlying bruising before he busied himself off to a suite of nearby offices.

Spotting his objective, Darren gave a kowtowed grin, “Admiral, glad you could make it last minute… I need to discuss something with you before sec con, we’ve got… less than five minutes.” He looked at his watch in emphasis.

“Of course, _Director_ , are you alright? There were _rumors_ that something had…”

“That’s precisely why I needed you to come down here. Listen, I can’t get into the odds-and-ends, we simply don’t have time before the meeting. Suffice to say, I’m going to announce some major personnel changes in five minutes. I… Admiral, I respect you, and this needs to happen—so I won’t sugar coat this. I’ve slated your replacement as AD and have your new role at the ready, I wish I could have discussed this with you beforehand, but you see… with my _daughter_ …” he shook his head, “For her, I needed to pull this together faster than it ought, but we’ll discuss it afterwards, rest assured.”

The admiral gold-fished, as he was expected to, “Sir, you can’t _possibly_ mean to name me as…”

Darren smiled sadly, “Klein, we have to head in. The President will be listening in on this one. It took a hell of a lot of finagling, so just keep your shit together and don’t make this seem rushed for either of our sakes.” He patted the man’s arm and waltzed with an air of confidence into the nearby conference room, Klein eagerly on his toes.

Darren masked his own impish delight with stoicism. As the heads of several agencies filed in, an abbreviated group from the usual monthly briefing, Michelle Collins took up a seat toward the rear of the table, her first time truly _at_ the table. All of the Associate Directors for Intelligence One were represented at the table, in addition to a few old-boys from the CIA, FBI, NSA, and half a dozen other smaller supporting branches of the DOD tree, including Andrea “Andy” Jones from A1.

“Right… first order of business…” Chimed the chief of staff in support of the Secretary of Defense, “Any new, urgent matters? Or are we starting to put out some of the fires today, gentlemen?”

Darren slipped forward into a lean while the department head from the CIA started in on the latest op going south in Pakistan that they strictly ‘weren’t’ on followed by some additionally cheerful news from North Korea. The FBI added in the small fire of a domestic terrorist threat against the area at large while the NSA made not a peep. He imagined they always listened and only whispered in ears when alone.

“And your entourage?” The Chief glanced to Andy then Darren.

“We keep our hoses at the ready to squash fires.” Andy reminded in an even keel.

“Nothing to report as an escalation, only minor notifications for later on, Chuck,” Darren charmed. He knew how much the Chief of Staff _hated_ being called by his old nickname and loved to sprinkle it in on days like this.

“Oh _brother_ … if you’re in a mood…”

“What was that Charlie?” The Secretary of Defense asked in a no-nonsense boom.

“Alright, moving along then, what kind of support do you need, gentlemen?”

The hemming and hawing that came as the CIA had to barter with AD Wesley and Colonel Bennett made Darren’s back loosen, at least they were in an overall state of excellence. No one could argue the decline of performance in Intelligence One since Darren took on the helm, and while he wasn’t giving his big brother a black-eye, either, he was keeping the ship running the course on the illusion of still seas. The rip-currents underneath only made the accomplishments that more fantastical to him, that and they were blowing through money on ops his brother hadn’t wanted to take due to the political blow-back of stepping on toes.

How anyone would think Darren wouldn’t downright _stomp_ toes he didn’t know. Any of the people in this room had seen how he ran Alpha, that boisterous vivacity to take what he needed or wanted and when, then deliver stellar results and improve the favor of everyone there—sure it was a smaller rig, but their agency had the highest success rate even to a per-capita model. Plus, in Alpha at least, he usually kept the overhead low.

“So then, onto you, Director Korvin, what was your ‘minor notes to the history books,’ then?”

That earned a toothy leer and scoff, “Ah, well… as we’ve exhausted the other topics… I’ve arranged some changes in the personnel and care to announce them here as it will alter the seating arrangements. AD Collins here will be replacing the Admiral. We’ve discussed this at lengths, and well… Collins is the right person for the job. Hardly retiring, the Admiral will take on the role of…” he watched Klein’s back straighten up, his eyes flitted across the room, “her direct subordinate until such time as he chooses to _fully_ retire. He has… done such a great service to our country, and I wish to thank you personally for all your _hard work_ , oh and my daughter wanted me to be sure to give you these, they’re tickets to the Met for you and the missus, Admiral.” He winked and handed him an envelope.

The way his face flushed told the story to half the suits—the old goat didn’t see that train coming from a mile away, the other half, including POTUS on the line, gave a congratulatory clap, the President going so far as to quip, “It must be nice to finally be able to retire… even if it’s only semi-retired. You’ve earned it.”

Darren’s eyes flitted across the room, Klein’s political homicide now complete, he shook his hand and clapped his shoulder. “I’ll convince this old goat he can finally stay home at least _one_ day a month.” He offered to the crowd before giving Andy a sharp look.

The figurehead of Alpha One coughed into her hand, “Ah, well then… if you’re done with the retirement party plans, Alpha does have close-out reports for a handful of ops we pulled out from landing sideways, Operation Press-and-Fold has been dealt with, there were two casualties but the local news is covering it as an office shooting—domestic violence in origin.”

The room went cold, “And the perpetrator?”

“Died in the fall-out, a local agent will get the credit for the bag-and-tag and the other injuries were those heroically trying to aid their fallen comrade.”

“I see.” The Chief looked at Darren suspiciously, “And were they really?”

Andy shrugged out a flick of the wrist to look at her buffed nails, “Of _course_. The intel there was a bit of a bust, nothing worth the loss of life, most of it hardly news to us, but we did plug the hole and this patch _really_ took.”

“Well then, ladies, gentlemen… anything _else_ to add on this fine Sunday, or can I finally get back to the putting green?”

Collective looks across the table seemed to adjourn the meeting for him. “Chuck, I hope you’re better at golf than you are at shooting clay pigeons.” Darren offered.

“…I’ll have you know I’m much better at shooting fellow golf enthusiasts, did you fancy to join me for a game?” He ribbed back.

“While I’d love to, some of us have work to get to.”

“Phil can’t come back soon enough, you pain in the…” he shook his head thinking better of saying it.

The room emptied out, Admiral Klein, fists clenched, regained his composure to head out with the pack. That son of a bitch played him. And why the hell hadn’t anyone told him the brat had gotten loose?! How deep did that son of a bitch interim director dig?

“Oh, Admiral Klein, a word,” Darren shot back before the man could vacate to start in on his own calls. The steel that his blue eyes forged cut straight into Klein as their gaze was exchanged. It felt as though the hallway had somehow become a ghost-town, all the aides and interns buzzing around fell silent to the clash of egos.

“Yes, Director Korvin?” came the icily civil response.

“Klein, the others told me how you were looking out for my daughter earlier this weekend, _thanks_ for that. She has a tendency to go overboard, so I’m grateful you took her under your wing like that and kept her out of trouble, because that girl… let me just say, she can _get_ into some situations in ways you wouldn’t hardly believe.” He chuckled, the undertones loud and clear, “And once she does… fughetaboutit. No one can pull her back when _she_ commits. That said, enjoy the opera, I’m sure you and your wife will have a great time.”

The bulging vein in Klein’s forehead told Darren he’d made his point sufficiently, at least the first one he needed to make. Now, he just had to get in touch with Dr. Quest and his secretary to get the much needed scheduling concerns addressed.

-Cry Wolf-

Bright light pierced the slats of the blinds as the sun rose diligently to the east. Offering a groggy groan, Venus rolled to her side and tried to shield her eyes from the brilliant orange ice-pick to her retina.

Benton paused mid-shake of her shoulder and strode to the curtains to thrust them open wider, “Good morning, Scout, it’s time to wake up for a while.”

“Dingo water…!” She pulled the covers as she turned away from the window.

Race helped liberate the pillow that she was using to block out more light. “I didn’t realize you were such a grouch in the morning.” He retorted in a playful tone.

The glare she shot through him would’ve curdled a lesser man’s blood, but Race brushed it off as if it were common place, though that probably was because he had the distinctive pleasure of dealing with three teenagers who were prone to pulling all-nighters he’d have to wake up.

“Necromancy…” Venus seethed, both adults looked between each other trying to guess her meaning. “Wherewithal icicle dad? Iguana tackle dad.”

“Are you still tired? It’s been very difficult to get you to wake up.”

“Indigo… waffle bovine mango… lemming sleet! Knead tomb…”

Race leaned into the wall, “Doc, want me to get the nurse?” He received the telling head bob and turned through the door.

“Are you getting frustrated that you can’t communicate? Is that why you’re so cranky?” Benton asked, in the periphery of his vision, Race saw a pack of cards fly five feet wide to Benton’s left before hitting the wall. “And you have double vision?”

The answering scowl looked like a strange amalgamation of a raccoon and chipmunk, puffed up, indignant cheeks and bruised-black eyes.

“Arsenal,” Venus growled, she paused as if to consider her option and unfolded her arms, more than tempted to see them try to actually make her stay if she put the effort into _not_ staying. “Werewolf De?”

“She’s nearby, she left us specific instructions that if you put up too much of a fuss to call her in and she’ll sit on you.” Race offered, he was surprised to see the teen blanch, wondering if she thought that was a literal threat.

“Shell handkerchief mink throw!”

“…Then don’t make me call in the cavalry.” Race rebuffed, he _would_ put De up to handcuffing the girl to the hospital bed, god knew he’d had moments thinking he’d have to resort to that with either of _his_ wards. “And stop throwing things; it’s not polite even if your aim _is_ bad right now.”

“Warehouse dad! Illuminati DAD.”

“He’s _busy_ , but he’ll call you once you get discharged.” Race provided, mentally he wondered how he kept casting himself as the ‘bad cop’ role, probably because he saw how the others naturally defaulted to spoiling her.

“Fiber! Wheat Jonny tango?”

Benton put his hand on Race’s bicep, “The kids are at the cafeteria, they were waiting for you to wake up before stopping in, but I think you need a little more rest before you can handle visitors.”

Blue eyes narrowed to slits, “Turkish sky wade mung upscale ipso facto sled?!” She let out a low growl of frustration. “Erythema hearts… weedle heed cholera may.” She curled into her side, cradling her head in her own anguish, as she let her eyes close, that persistent, irritating hand was back to her shoulder shaking her.

“Now I didn’t say you could go back to sleep yet, scout! You need to stay awake for a while longer.”

“Lego made auburn!” Her hand swiped and missed at the offending grip. “Harried!”

“I know you’re not feeling well, but you _have_ to stay awake.” Benton glanced at where Race had been, glad the man had gone for the neurologist, he was very concerned that her condition was worsening. “You weren’t responding. Do you understand? You could fall into a _coma_.”

“Atlas sneer.” She argued, though only she seemed to know what she was saying.

Deciding she was gaining no ground, she began to rub a sore spot on her neck drowsily. Benton’s larger hand landed overtop it, “Just stay awake for a little while longer, Venus. Once the doctor checks on you I’ll have the kids come back in, alright?”

She gave a meek head-bob before looking out the window in misery. “Impetigo dad?”

“Yes, if you can stay awake and do what the doctors ask of you, I’ll call your dad too. Deal?”

She nodded slowly, still frowning, she grimaced at the tight sensation that caused.

Clacking shoes indicated the fast approach of a white-coat, Venus looked up groggily at the new face in the door, the doctor was flanked with two nurses though she couldn’t tell who was who.

“Good morning Ms. Quest, how are you doing today?”

“Allegra oil bark sconce.” Venus said in a flat tone. “Winnebago?”

“She’s very tired, her speech is worse from last night to the point where I can’t really figure out what she’s saying, and it took fifteen minutes to get her to rouse from her slumber, she also hasn’t been able to recall things recently discussed.”

“Mr. Bannon explained that to me. Also he said something about double vision?”

Benton nodded. “Yes, and irritability.”

The doctor approached the bed, “And this swelling… how does it compare to yesterday?” She pressed her gloved hands into the puffy tissue around Venus’s eyes and nose earning her a hiss.

“It’s marginally worse from yesterday, it’s certainly gotten darker from yesterday.”

“Alright, dear, I think you and I have a date with the MRI…” the doctor joked, only for the girl to bristle unexpectedly. “Oh don’t be scared, it’s an open imager… Nurse, bring over a wheel chair, she shouldn’t try to walk in that shape.”

Proving said point, the ground went uneven when Venus sat upright with the spin of a tilt-a-whirl. Fluttering eyelashes closed as the teen tried to stop the kaleidoscopic view of the room before she was steered into the chair holding her forehead and stomach suggestively.

The scan itself was mercifully quick, given how booming loud the whooping sounds of magnets made as they circled, and the dizzying effect of watching them spin around slow as it was—or at least Venus perceived it as quick, she’d dozed off within minutes of being in the room alone. She awoke back in the suite with an even worse headache and the taste of a pungent, rotted smell she couldn’t place.

As she blinked awake, thinking was painful. “Oww… why does my head hurt even _worse_ now?!” She pouted at the others in the room, preparing for the frustration of them not seeming to figure out even _that_ obvious of a statement.

“The doctor had to stint the excess of cerebral spinal fluid. She was able to do it with a long needle.” Benton explained.

Venus blinked again, “So my suspension’s out of alignment thanks to a spinal tap?” She muttered, realizing they’d have no shot in hell of figuring out what she’d said _now_.

“Don’t tell me they’ve ‘jerry-rigged’ that in the field _too_ …” Benton asked, baffled that she’d understood the procedure.

“Wait, what?” Venus turned her head slowly to look at him, “You followed what I said?” She took a look around the room, surprised to see there was a small crowd again.

“When they drained the built-up fluids, the symptoms tapered. You’ve been in and out for an hour or so.” Benton explained for the fourth time, he smiled back patiently which only further confounded Venus as to why he was giving her the ‘patient look’.

“…I don’t remember waking up before?” Venus asked vaguely, “What time is it? When can I talk to my dad?”

“He’s in meetings until 3:30 per Phil, but after that, he’ll call you.” Race offered, slipping her a cellphone. “But your uncle would love to eat up minutes with a call.”

That earned him a pout, “You called Uncle Phil? Why would you call him?! He’s a worry-wart on vacation to _relax_!”

Jonny coughed into his fist, “Well, strictly speaking, he called us after we took down Stark…”

“Wait, what?” Her head swiveled to look at him, then the down-trodden Stark with a well-formed shiner. “Why would you hit Stark?! Oh wow. Silver lining, Stark, I don’t smell that abysmal cologne of yours… I didn’t even realize you were here. Why _are_ you here?”

That earned a weak laugh from the blond teenager sitting in the corner, she wondered if she was imagining his pallor or if he’d over-extended himself in mounting an unfathomable defense from a non-threat.

“Apparently one hand didn’t let the other hand know what it was doing.” Stark offered humorlessly, “What with how busy we’ve all been kept… As I told young Jonny here, I’m a family friend coming to check up on your security.”

“…And that sounded an awful lot like what someone would say trying to attack someone in a hospital room.” He brooded.

“Oh goodness, don’t tell me you’re still upset that I returned the favor?” Stark pointed to his own bruised cheek suggestively.

“Stark, did you rough him up?” Venus sat up indignantly.

“No, I did it to myself when he pushed me off balance. I’m fine, sis, really. I’m mostly back to normal now… but it took more energy than I meant to when I was trying to run back and warn dad and Race… and then, well, he caught up—and well, he swept me off my feet easier than I prefer.” He continued to brood.

Jessie and Hadji were nodding along with him, each worried in their own rights, neither had been fully expecting their friend to try something so foolish as to attack a trained agent in desperation to buy them time to warn Venus of the potential intruder, both were ecstatic to see Stark’s self-control, the move could have sent Jonny to a worse place than the floor.

“…So I used standard self-defense in the situation and immobilized my attacker.” Stark rolled his eyes, “But my god, boy, at 15 you’d think you’d know better than to take those kinds of risks. Luckily, I remembered the kind of scamp you were at 11!”

That did earn a break in the gloom of Jonny’s scowl, he gave a thin sneer that evolved into a grin and a scratch to the tip of his nose, “What can I say, I’m consistent.”

“…?” Venus looked between the bantering duo, “Stark, you know Jonny?”

“That isn’t surprising for Intelligence One agents and operators and their families to know each other. I’m much more curious as to how _you_ know the Quests, _Ms. Wolf_ … Ms. Korvin, and now Ms. Quest… I am sure there is _quite_ a backstory there.”

“I’m _not_ a Quest.” She seethed, “That guy—” she pointed heatedly at Dr. Quest, “Thought it would make the paperwork easier on hospital admissions. And technically, Wolf isn’t my surname.”

“And Korvin is then?” Stark asked expectantly.

“…No, it’s not either,” came the even response. “Are you here on my dad’s behest?” Her azure orbs blinked at him suggestively, “Stark is loyal to Uncle Phil and dad. He was playing his part as a double agent to get cozy to the rabble-rousers though. That said, we’ve never been particularly close, so you probably don’t know much about my family. Bannon, here, is one of my dad’s and uncle’s close childhood friends. I met the Quests sometime around summer last year. We were fast friends.”

He eyed the girl and the now less-than-sulking blond in the chair, “Oh were you?”

“Yes.” She offered back, “So are you here to offer your guard services or something?”

“I had my own questions, but knew it would be more the merrier to offer my services as a sword. Officially, the Director did _not_ ask me to check on you. Unofficially though, he liked the idea of eyes on the area that could identify potential threats. How do you know Wild Jim?”

Venus grumbled as she slid further into the hospital bed, “Damn it, Stark, I’ve been in the industry for a _while_ , that’s how. It’s not strange for agents and operators to know each other, didn’t you _just_ say that?! And believe me, Wolf isn’t a surname but it sure is an earned moniker.”

“But of course.” He smoothed, “One more question if you’ll humor me for it.”

“Yeah, yeah… go on.” Venus rolled her eyes, even her teeth were starting to thrum. “After this, I have to call in though.”

“Are you really the next in line at Alpha?”

That earned him a glare. He smiled and waved peaceably, “Goodness I love how direct you Korvins are. That’s what makes you so much more pleasurable to work with. If you let your guard down, you’re a book to read. Not to say that’s a bad thing, your majesty.” He winked, “I should mention your uncle _did_ ask me formally to come look in on you. He also told me a little more of the background than I’m sure you have the energy for. Though I was promised that the story of how you met Wild Jim would be far more entertaining from you than from he. Well, I’ll bid my adieu for now, but I’m at your service.”

Venus rolled her eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re a fan of the Wolf now, too…?”

Stark gave a wink, “I’d wolf-whistle or howl but wouldn’t that just make your headache worse?” That earned a genuine smirk from the girl.

-Cry Wolf-

Inside the expansive kitchen, Phil continued to chop cloves of garlic and plum tomatoes, slice basil leaves down the stems and add them to a nearby pot on simmer while cradling the phone to his ear.

“…Uncle Phil? Race said you wanted me to call you?”

“How’re you feeling?” Came the eager response from the phone.

“I have a headache and an entourage, apparently.”

“Hmmm… well, yes, the Quest Team is close-knit.” Phil offered to his niece while continuing his chopping. “A few of our mutual friends filled me in. You bluffed quite a hand of poker don’t you think?”

With a strained smile, Venus gave a withered laugh, “I wouldn’t say it was a _bluff_ per se…” She rubbed at her arm, “but I did what needed to be done. Uncle Phil… they killed…”

“I know, it’s a rotten business sometimes. You do realize this rumor is already circulating.”

“I wore age-enhanced makeup at the brunch though… so there’s still _some_ smoke-screen…” Venus looked at the others in the room, “It’s what it is, anyway. It had to happen.”

The knife paused once it struck the board, “I’m glad you’re okay. You took some very big risks.”

“Calculated, and I pulled it off. Don’t forget _that_.”

Venus shot a glare through Dr. Quest, suddenly realizing he was probably _very_ used to having this same conversation with her uncle on his own behalf. “…This is your way of gloating, isn’t it, Uncle Phil?”

“Of _course_ not,” he offered in a stalwart tone. “You carried yourself well, but that’s not to say you weren’t careless!”

“…Careless?” Her eyes narrowed, about to launch into a lengthy rebuttal to the painstaking care she’d put into her motions.

“You have to prioritize yourself more than that. Don’t you understand your position as an heir? And a concussion… that was just sloppy.”

“Are you kidding me?! Uncle Phil! It’s a title! If I’m not a _complete_ pain in the ass, I’m not living up to my duties and responsibilities as a princess thereof!” Her eyes darted across the room, daring anyone to say anything. She excitedly realized her vision wasn’t doubled anymore.

Phil chuckled softly, “Well then, as long as you know why you did it, and that you _have duties_ … good job. Now if you can convince my idiot baby brother to be more dutiful, I can enjoy the rest of my vacation.”

“Uncle Phil, if you want me to remind my dad to be any bigger of a pain in your ass, I’m not going to hear the end of it when he does it. Or did you mean he’s lying down on his _other_ duties?”

“Who’s to say,” he demurred, “Get well soon. I hear you’ll be asked to be De’s Maid of Honor.”

“Wait— _what_?!” Venus blinked as the line disconnected. “He hung up on me.” She looked across the room, then back at the phone as it buzzed. She answered it upon seeing her dad’s number pop up. “…Uh, hello?”

“Good Morning sleepy-head…” Darren offered back, “Though it’s mid-afternoon, it’s _certainly_ a good one.”

The throaty laugh almost begged the question. Almost.

“You’re in a good mood… you did something evil, didn’t you?” Venus relaxed, “Did you exact your revenge for having to work through the whole weekend?”

“Oh, and then some, princess; next weekend keep your schedule open. I’m taking it off and plan to spoil you good and proper. Until then, I want you to stay with the Quests, understood?”

“Uh… yeah, but why? Aren’t you going to come home?”

Darren exhaled a drag of smoke, “I will, but you need more babysitting with a concussion than I can do, so I have to outsource my doting. Don’t worry those blue eyes of yours I will dote the stuffing out of you next weekend though. How are you feeling though?”

“…I’m fine. I have a headache, the doctor drained some fluid and now my head hurts but people can understand what I’m saying again… as much as they usually do at least. Where did Jim and De get to? Are they staying local…?”

“…Ah, well, I don’t think I _want_ to know where those two are going…” Darren laughed, “I’ll call you tonight. Love you.”

“…Oh… okay, yeah, love you too dad, I’ll talk to you later—oh, you want to talk to… yeah.” She frowned before handing the phone back to Race. “He wants to talk with you.”

Momentarily distracted by the noise in the crowded room, Venus spotted Hadji flip the cards into bridge while shuffling. “Pick a card?”

Venus gave him a dirty look, and took one anyway. She slipped it back into the pack. Hadji patted his pocket then looked at hers suggestively. When she played along and put her hand into her robe, she returned with a delightful surprise—a new novel to read. Squirrely-eyed, she slid it back in and gave him a grin. “That was a cool trick. Got it on the first try.”

-End-


End file.
